


Eternal Sunshine of Arcadia Bay

by sad_magical_girl



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Between LIS and BTS, But not in the way you'd exepct, Comedy, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Science Fiction, So no Dark Room or Max or any of that, Time Travel, amberprice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 62,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_magical_girl/pseuds/sad_magical_girl
Summary: Chloe is looking for something different and exciting, but she might not be able to handle Rachel Amber--especially after Rachel receives an odd envelope in the mail telling the pair an unbelievable truth.Sci-fi-ish Amberprice based on the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Even if you haven't seen it, you can still enjoy (you might even enjoy it more)!





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Obsessed with these two; I had to contribute to the ship. I even got to use one of my favorite films as inspiration! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :]

It had been a bit of a lonely summer for Chloe Price. She could count the number of friends she possessed on one hand, and even then, she wasn’t sure those people were friends. Some, she only saw whenever there was weed to be smoked. Justin and Trevor fell into this category. To be fair, their state of perpetual highness made them pretty difficult to be around sober, so why bother?

Others, she’d receive the odd text from and decide if she could be bothered to respond. Eliot, for example. He recently seemed to have finally called it quits. He wasn’t a bad guy by any means, but Chloe knew she would never be what he wanted. Better to cut him loose.

There was Steph, but she’d spent most of the summer prepping for college before leaving early for the fall semester. Chloe did miss her, in an odd way, but she was glad that Steph was making something of herself. Chloe couldn’t really say the same for herself.

If there was one thing Chloe could say for herself, it was that she’d had a pretty impressive number of hook-ups this summer. Guys and girls alike. They weren’t anything real, and they didn’t really help the loneliness subside, but at least they were fun.

So yes, Chloe had spent the last few months alone. She realized, though, that she had ways to pass the time with or without friends. She could lay around her room and smoke or hang out around Blackwell and smoke or even go up to the lighthouse and smoke. Today was different. Chloe didn’t feel compelled to visit any of her old haunts or call an old hook-up. They felt uninspired, and Chloe needed something different, something exciting…

That breezy day, the first day of autumn, she decided to follow the train tracks. She didn’t know why she’d never thought of it before. She’d follow the train tracks until oncoming headlights blinded her, a horn blared, and brakes squealed as they frantically tried to bring the rumbling train to a halt before it was too late… and then effortlessly, she would hop to the side and go about her day. It seemed like the sort of reckless, dangerous thing Chloe Price would do.

“Danger?” she mumbled to herself, “I _laugh_ in the face of danger. Hahaha!” Quoting The Lion King was probably something dangerous people didn’t do, but she was Chloe fucking Price and Chloe Price did whatever she fucking wanted.

Chloe removed her beanie and ran her fingers through her short, cobalt hair, almost as a reminder. The blue was new; she’d dyed it for the first time just a month ago. Upon first seeing it, her mom had clicked her tongue with mild distaste. Then she must have decided that the conversation wasn’t worth having, that there were worse things her eighteen-year-old daughter could be doing. Her skin was littered in tattoos, but at least the hair dye wasn’t permanent.

Dickbag David had other opinions, but his opinions didn’t matter. Or ever would, for that matter.

Chloe crammed her beanie back on her head and began to follow the tracks. She didn’t know where they led, but as long they left Arcadia Bay, she was more than happy to continue.

The thing about Arcadia Bay was that it sucked. It was a flaming trash heap. Aaaand that was about it.

So Chloe peacefully followed the tracks along the edge of the forest, earbuds in, desperately wishing that she really were as far apart from the rest of the world as she felt then. There was nothing left for her here, so why not just drift away? She envied the birds. Sure, they were covered in feathers and had beady eyes, but they could get the hell out of dodge when they wanted.

It didn’t take long before Chloe finally found something of interest on her journey along the tracks. Soaked in the gentle rays of the fading summer sun sat a barren patch of land, covered in junk as far as the eye could see: rusted shells of old school buses, carcasses of abandoned dinghies, hubcaps, long-emptied canisters, aging metal signs. Chloe stopped in her tracks. This place was… actually kind of cool. She hopped down from the tracks and wandered over.

What awaited her was a poor man’s paradise, which was fitting since her family never had much money anyway. An old wooden sign declared that she was in American Rust. Chloe smirked at the highly appropriate name as she explored its depth. Trash and various knick-knacks littered the ground: a cracked car mirror, the detached head of an unfortunate mannequin, and a totally crushed Polaroid camera that reminded her of Max.

Ugh, Max. She had left for Seattle four years ago, and yet Chloe couldn’t stop herself from thinking about her from time to time. At first, she’d felt a dull throb in her chest remembering the best friend who had abandoned her with such ease. Now all she felt was like she’d bitten her tongue, stinging at first but then quickly forgotten. Chloe shuffled past the camera, rolling her light blue eyes. She came across a toolbox, a computer monitor, and even a placemat from the diner where her mom worked, Two Whales diner.

“Those were the days, huh?” Chloe said to herself. She remembered helping her mom open the diner before school, the aroma of bacon and pancakes and her mom cheerfully humming to herself as she wiped down the counter. Now, everything was shit. If only she could have warned that carefree kid from back then. But what would she even say? “Your dad is going to die, your best friend is going to leave you, your mom is going to marry a chode, and you’ll be stuck forever friendless in Arcadia Bay”? Yeah, that would go over well. It was a good thing Chloe didn’t have time travel powers or else she’d probably be even more of a fucked up youth than she already was.

A rusted truck caught Chloe’s attention. It was pretty old, but it looked like maybe it could still run, if someone just gave it a little love and attention. She waltzed over to it, music still blaring from her headphones, and popped the hood. To her surprise, it opened with no resistance whatsoever.  Even more of a surprise, the battery inside the truck looked to be in pretty good shape. Of course, her luck couldn’t last forever, especially being Chloe Price. Trying that theory, she decided to see if she could take the truck for a spin.

She opened the door and shuffled inside. There was a pretty gnarly hole in the floor below the passenger’s seat and the seats were torn, losing stuffing. The car seemed to have no signs of previous ownership aside from an Elvis-esque bobblehead sitting on the dashboard. Chloe reached out with her ratty sneaker and gave it a gentle bop on the head. The grinning bobblehead nodded with glee and Chloe smirked.

“Do you think I should steal this truck?” Chloe asked the small, singing man in his white jacket and guitar. She tapped his head again, and he nodded his approval. “Thank you, little singing dude. Now, it’d really be our lucky day if I could find a key…” Chloe ran her hands along the dusty dashboard and found nothing. She flipped open the sun visor, but there wasn’t anything there, either. Even the glove box yielded nothing.

“Damn,” Chloe muttered to herself. She’d have to find something to pick the ignition, which would be easy enough in this rusted wonderland. Still though, who would leave what seemed to be a fully functional truck left in the middle of a junkyard? Whoever they were, Chloe was grateful for them and their shittiness--as far as she was concerned, she now owned a truck.

“Just gotta find a screwdriver or something…” Chloe thought aloud as she hopped out of the truck. She could also stand to make the place a little more homey. Wouldn’t hurt to find things to decorate the truck with; even if she couldn’t get it to start, it would make a pretty cool hideaway. During her expedition into American Rust, she found some Christmas lights, an old welcome mat, and a rainbow towel. The mat she used to cover up a sizeable hole on the passenger’s side. The rainbow towel she used to cover up all the rips in the seats, and the Christmas lights gave a pretty good atmosphere.

She also uncovered a baseball bat and immediately had the greatest idea that anyone on the earth has ever had.

“GAHHHH!” Chloe screamed as she swung the baseball bat at a pile of old tires. They bounced to and fro, and it was all too satisfying.

“HIYAAAAH!” she screamed again. This time, her target was the cracked window of a rusted old washing machine. The already fragmented glass finally gave way to the force of the bat and shattered completely.

“Motherfucking BULLSEYE!” Chloe gloated. She came across a sign with a cheerful golden sun painted on it. It bade her to make it a great day.

“Don't tell me what to do!” she cried, and she brought the wooden bat upon the sign. This was a bad idea; it bounced right off the metal and flew back at her face.

“Ohshitgoddamn.” That had been a close one. Maybe now was the time to stop fucking around with the baseball bat.

That was when Chloe heard a crunch behind her, the sound of footsteps meeting with shattered glass. She immediately whipped around, pointing the bat at her intruder.

“Whoa!" came the cry of the uninvited guest, and they took a tumbling step backward.

Chloe wasn't sure who exactly she expected, but she definitely didn't think it would be who she got. In front of her stood a modelesque girl, probably around her age. She was wrapped up in a blue flannel that matched her ripped blue sneakers and the delicate feather earring that dangled to her neck. She held her hands up, as a reflex, in self defense, her hazel eyes wide and her glossy lips in a perfect ‘o’. Her golden hair glowed in the sunlight and… and damn was this girl attractive.

Who was she?

“Uhm. Please don't hit me with that thing," flannel girl said. It took a moment for Chloe to realize that she still had the bat pointed at this girl, poised to strike. She immediately dropped the bat, embarrassed.

“Oh, shit. Sorry," Chloe mumbled.

“You weren't actually going to hit me, were you?" flannel girl asked, her lips upturned in an amused, lazily seductive smile.

“Ah, no,” Chloe said quickly. "I mean. If you were some big burly shithead guy, then maybe, yeah. But you're, uhh--”

“A stunning teenage girl?” Chloe wasn’t sure how to respond, but before she said anything, the stranger spoke. “I'm kidding," she said quickly. “Thank you, though. For not using me for batting practice like you did that washing machine.” The girl nodded her head toward the busted machine a few feet away. Chloe felt her cheeks warm up. Yeah, this was embarrassing.

“Hey, it didn't have much life left to live. Actually, I think it was already taking loads in washing machine heaven. Or hell.” Chloe paused. “Were you watching me before?" she asked, cautious. It was time for the other girl to blush, even if it was barely detectable.

“I didn't really mean to? I was just walking around when I heard a bunch of stuff getting smashed. I thought maybe some bikers were getting into a fight or something crazy, but then…”

“But then it was me, “ Chloe finished. The girl nodded.

“But then it was you.” The two girls considered each other for a moment, standing a few feet apart as they watched one another. Model teen broke the silence.

“I think I know you,” she began. “Did you go to Blackwell?”

“You're not going to ask me why I'm smashing stuff alone in a shitty old junkyard?” Model teen shrugged.

“Everyone has their struggles, and everyone deals with them differently. Did you go to Blackwell?”

Chloe hesitated. She didn't know why, but she felt like she couldn't tell this girl that “Yeah, I did go to Blackwell until I got expelled for various offenses you'll think I'm total trash for.” Chloe never cared much about what people thought, but she really didn't want this girl to think she was a trash heap. She was, but this girl didn't need to know that.

“Uhh, yeah," Chloe answered after a moment. “I did." Feather girl stepped closer.

“I used to see you in the halls. Your hair wasn't blue then," she said, and the girl reached toward Chloe’s hair in a way that was entirely too familiar for someone she'd never met. Without thinking, Chloe took a step back. She didn't mean to, but it was a reflex.

“Sorry!" both girls immediately said at once.

“Why are you sorry?” the girl asked. “I'm the one who totally disrespected your personal space.”

“No, no,” Chloe said quickly, "I didn't mean to brush you off. I… I feel like I know you, too." Again, the girls looked at each other, not sure what this encounter meant.

“I, uhh… kind of have a truck. If you… wanna catch up more? Figure out if we actually know each other or if we had a group schizophrenic hallucination?” Model teen giggled, and it was a delightful sound.

“I would love to, mysterious stranger.”

“Chloe,” Chloe answered. “Chloe Price. Though mysterious stranger doesn’t have a bad ring to it. Kinda hot.” Mystery girl smiled, and hell was it seductive.

“I agree,” she responded, the smirk still on her lips. “Though I could get used to Chloe. I like it.” Flannel girl began to saunter away, despite not knowing where the abandoned truck sat. Chloe couldn’t help but watch for a moment--because damn--before she realized; only she had given her name in this odd but exciting conversation.

“Wait,” Chloe called, and the other girl stopped, turned around. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight, her hazel eyes shone. “You’re not going to tell me your name?” The girl considered her for a moment, an amused half-smirk on her lips.

“Rachel Amber,” she said finally. “You know, it’s kind of refreshing to find someone who _doesn’t_ know my name. Not to sound like a total ass.”

“Well, if you find my being a social outcast refreshing, then you are sure to be delighted.” Feather girl… Rachel, laughed, and Chloe couldn’t help but smile.

  
“Then lead the way," Rachel responded, sweeping an arm in front of her. Feeling more excited than she had in a long time, Chloe did just that.


	2. Getting Acquainted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Rachel get to know each other as teenagers do: through a revealing game of Never Have I Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooooo! Thank you for the comments and the kudos! Really! I'm glad to see some people are digging this. Be sure to keep your shovels on hand so you can... keep on... digging it... [leaves]

The teenagers sat in the rusted truck, the blue-haired dropout in the driver’s seat, the mysterious blonde dreamgirl beside her. Out in the junkyard, the conversation flowed as naturally as it could for two total strangers. Inside this truck, in a more intimate space, however, Chloe felt nervous. That said a lot, because very little made her nervous these days. It wasn't like she'd never seen a pretty girl before, but they'd never really seen her, either. Now here she was, next to potentially the prettiest girl in Arcadia Bay, and she was tongue-tied in a very un-Chloe way.

Rachel took in her surroundings, unaware of Chloe’s fretting and slight mental anguish.

“This is pretty cool,” Rachel said finally. “This is your truck?” Chloe shook her head.

“Err, not really. I actually just found it here, weirdly enough. I decorated it, though. With some cool stuff I found lying around here.” Rachel twisted in her seat to take a good look around. Everything was in some form of decay, but Chloe found old things comforting. She just hoped that her new companion would approve.

“A rainbow towel," she began, “and rainbow lights. I'm sensing a theme here." Chloe laughed. 

“Again, all stuff I found lying around. I’m not trying to make some sort of statement.”

“About what?” Chloe hesitated. It was weird enough that they were hanging out when it didn’t even seem like they were from the same planet. She wasn’t going to make it even weirder by bringing her sexuality into things. 

“Uhh, nothing,” Chloe said quickly. Rachel looked at her, speculating, but Chloe pretended not to notice. “But hey,” she began, changing the subject, “this old thing is actually in pretty good condition. Actually, if I could get it to start, I could probably drive it out of this shittole town right now.” Rachel shook her head, released a lengthy sigh. 

“Lucky you. That’s the one thing I want most in this world. Other than to become a model, I suppose. But I’ve gotta get out of Arcadia Bay to do that, though, so…” Chloe regarded the girl in the seat next to her. It took her about one second to come up with her conclusion. 

“You’re too damn good for this place,” Chloe assessed. Rachel laughed. 

“You’ve only known me for, what? Ten minutes?”

“That doesn’t matter. I can already tell. You don’t feel like you belong here. I guess I know because I feel like I don’t… belong here either.” Chloe finished her sentence with a blush. Why the hell was she telling a stranger these things? Sure, she’d preach to anyone her list every single reason she hated Arcadia Bay, but nothing so personal so quickly. Not the fact that she felt like a total outcast. She expected Rachel to laugh, maybe give that amused smirk that Chloe was growing accustomed to, but she didn’t. Instead, she nodded. 

“That easy to tell, huh?”

“There’s basically a sign on your forehead. One that says ‘Fuck you, Arcadia Bay!’” Rachel smiled, but it quickly disappeared.

“I’m just… not sure if there’s anything here for me anymore. Any _one_ here for me.” That was an interesting bit to add, Chloe thought. Sounded like there was trouble in paradise. She felt slightly disappointed. It wasn’t like she stood a chance with this girl, but a small part of her couldn’t help but hope that this future model could see her romantically, or at least want to make out with her. But of course she was seeing someone, probably some tall, dark, handsome guy who was equally mysterious and enthralling. 

“You don't get along with anyone?” Chloe asked, trying to avoid the topic of the significant other. Rachel laughed, but it was forced.

“I get along with everyone, actually. And it’s… fucking _exhausting_.” That surprised Chloe.

“What do you mean?” she asked, because she wasn’t quite able to wrap her head around the fact that having friends could be tiring. Again, because she had a grand total of three of them. Rachel shook her head, dismissing the thought.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be unloading all of this on you. We barely know each other.”

“No,” Chloe said quickly. She wanted to know more about the blonde, everything about her. “I really don’t mind.” Rachel smiled again, but it was close to a grimace.

“It’s just… funny how when I’m feeling like I don’t know anyone or know what’s right or what’s real, you show up. And… it feels like I know you. And you feel right, and you feel real.” Wowzer. Now Chloe’s head was spinning. Whoever made her feel so abandoned clearly didn’t deserve her, but Chloe probably didn’t deserve her, either.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel said again before Chloe could respond. “Forget that I said that.” She laughed. “What the hell is going on with me today?” Chloe shook her head.

“No, it’s… it’s totally fine.” The strange part was that Chloe actually felt the same, like the two girls were destined to meet that day. But that was a stupid thought. There was no such thing as destiny. Just shitty Arcadia Bay and the all the shitty people in it. Except for her. Rachel. Maybe destiny existed after all…

Instead of confiding all of this in her new friend (if she could call her that), she ruffled around in the pocket of her beat-up pleather jacket. After a moment, she proudly pulled out a freshly rolled joint.

“You smoke?” Chloe asked, because the mood was getting a little heavy, and she didn’t know how to address it. Rachel’s face lit up.

“Hell yeah I do,” she replied. “Light it up.” Chloe didn’t need to be told a second time. She pulled her lighter out of her pants pocket, flicked it on, and held it up to the joint placed expertly between her lips. With one drag, she could already feel the tension around her lifting. She lazily blew a stream of smoke from her lips before handing her joint to Rachel. Apparently she loved weed just as much as Chloe, because she didn’t hesitate in taking a couple drags herself. She handed the joint back to Chloe, visibly more relaxed.

“God, I needed that. I owe you.” Chloe shrugged.

“Always a pleasure to get high with good company.” Rachel raised an eyebrow.

“You think I’m good company?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Chloe responded. “Why wouldn’t I?” Rachel snorted.

“Just wait till you get to know me.” Ominous, Chloe thought. Clearly this girl had a lot of baggage. But as a high school dropout with a dead dad, no friends, and an ex-army bastard constantly breathing down her neck, she figured she had her fair share of baggage, too.

“Let’s do something fun!” Rachel said suddenly, leaning up in her seat. Her previously melancholy seemed to have completely vanished, and her eyes lit up like a child’s. This surprised Chloe enough to almost drop the joint, keyword being almost. Chloe took another drag.

“Trust me; it looks hot in movies, but car sex is _not_ fun.”

“Wow,” Rachel responded, genuinely shocked. Chloe blushed.

“Uhh. That was a joke,” she said lamely.

“It wasn’t,” Rachel responded. She pondered for a moment. “Which is actually kind of hot.” Chloe’s face burned brighter. She took another puff and exhaled the smoke, hoping it would cloud her face. Rachel took the joint from her fingers and took another puff as well. That would probably be enough to get them going, at least for a little bit.

“So, uhh… what fun not truck sex thing did you wanna do?” Chloe asked, still feeling rather sheepish. Rachel simply laughed, but Chloe felt like an idiot. She needed to get it together in front of this girl. What did she mean, that it was hot that Chloe had had car sex? Was she into car sex? Was she into Chloe? Was she into car sex _with Chloe_?

“Well… speaking of things we have or haven’t done. Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” Chloe groaned.

“Oh God. One of those trash games you play at parties once everyone’s wasted, just to find out who’s banging who? Do we really have to?”

“Hey! It can be fun. Besides, aren’t we here to learn more about each other?”

“Yeah, I guess, but… can we do it in a less Vortex Party fashion?” Rachel smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Fuck the Vortex, honestly. I don’t even know why I still hang out with them.”

“Huh. So you’re hashtag Team Vortex?” Chloe asked, her tone flat. As gorgeous as Rachel was, it didn’t surprise her. She had hoped that there was more to Rachel than met the eye, that she was above partying with the “cool kids”. To her surprise, Rachel scoffed. 

“I am _not_ in the Vortex. Some of the people are… all right, but they’re definitely not my first choice.” She laughed. “Actually, I mostly go for the drugs. But shh,” she said, putting a perfectly manicured finger up to her lips, “don’t tell anyone.” Chloe mimicked her, bringing her own finger up to zip her lips.

“Your secret is safe with me, O Druggy One.” Rachel laughed again and playfully shoved Chloe on the shoulder. Chloe’s internal temperature increased several degrees.

“Shut up. So.” Rachel leaned forward, her hazel eyes gleaming. She held up three fingers. “We both get three tries. I tell you that I've never done something. If you have, then you put down a finger.” Rachel demonstrated herself. “Then you tell me something you've never done, and if I have, I put down a finger. First one to run out of fingers is--”

“A total badass, I know. You're on.” Rachel grinned from ear to ear.

“That's the spirit! All right. Never have I ever gotten in trouble at school.” Chloe barked out a laugh.

“Do I really seem to you like the type who excels academically?” she asked, the laugh still on her lips.

“Hey, you said you went to Blackwell. I’ve been there _five years_ , and I’ve never seen you around,” Rachel responded with a shrug. Chloe snorted.

She had a decision to make. Just a few minutes ago, she didn't want Rachel to know she was a high school dropout. But the weed was starting to kick in, and, hell, if Rachel judged her for this, then they probably shouldn't have been friends in the first place. If they even were friends.

“Yeah…” Chloe slowly began. “I uhh… kinda got expelled.” Rachel gave a low whistle.

“What'd you do to get Wells that pissed at you?”

“What _didn't_ I do?” Chloe asked with a laugh, but Rachel gave her a prodding look. After a moment, Chloe sighed, took off her beanie, and ran a hand through her short blue locks.

“Mostly I skipped class. A lot. And I may have tagged some shit. And been caught smoking on campus a few times. Also, apparently I verbally abused some teachers, but how seriously could I take them if they couldn't even win an argument against me?” Rachel simply stared at Chloe before bursting into abrupt, truly joyful laughter. A small part of Chloe hated that Rachel was laughing at her expense, but most of Chloe actually really enjoyed it. She adored this girl’s laugh.

“Damn, Price. You really are a badass. I already feel like I know who's going to win this."

“Isn't it losing, technically?" Chloe asked dryly, but she did smile. “So you're a senior?” Rachel nodded.

“Yuuup. I’m actually in the second year of a two year senior program, but that’s boring stuff.” Rachel dismissed the topic with a wave of her hand. “So, Price,” she said, focusing on the blue-haired girl beside her, “that's one finger down for you. What have you never done? Other than make it through Blackwell without getting kicked out?” This time, Chloe gave Rachel a light shove. She wondered if it had the same effect on the model student as it did to her. If it did, Rachel didn't show it.  
  
“Never have I ever… gone skinny dipping,” Chloe finished. Rachel, to her surprise, put down a finger. “Well shit, Amber. Guess I'm not the only badass here.” Rachel smiled coyly, though Chloe could see the hint of a blush across her cheeks.  

“I have the Vortex to blame for that one. It was pretty damn fun, though.”

“No shit,” Chloe said before taking another drag off the joint. She handed it to Rachel, who finished it off. “Nice," Chloe commented, and Rachel took a deep stage bow as well as she could in a cramped truck.

“Okay,” Rachel began, “never have I ever… been arrested.” Chloe kept her remaining two fingers up.

“Give it time, though,” Chloe added with a laugh. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“You may get into trouble, but you're too good for that." Chloe laughed.

“Well. That's the first time anyone’s ever told me that I'm too good for anything, but thanks. I appreciate it.” Rachel opened up the car door and dropped the last of the joint onto the ground. She closed the door and got comfy again. She looked adorable, snuggled up in her seat. Chloe tried to ignore this fact.

“Okay,” Chloe started, “never have I ever…” What could she ask? This game was usually used to scope out your crush, right? What could she find out about this girl without giving away too much about herself?

“Never have I ever had a boyfriend.” Chloe finished, feeling triumphant. Sure enough, Rachel put down a finger.

“Never have I ever had a girlfriend," Rachel quickly countered. It was unexpected, but Chloe kept her two fingers up.

“Really?" Rachel asked. “That’s actually… really shocking. I'm surprised all the girls here aren't, like, fighting over you.” Chloe’s laugh would have been bitter, had it not been for the weed. She was feeling pretty good at moment. Comfortable and, dare she say it, maybe even happy.

“I'm surprised they're not fighting over _you_ ,” Chloe countered. “Newsflash, but you're kind of hot.” Rachel laughed.

“You're not too bad yourself,” Rachel replied, again with that knowing smile. Chloe simply rolled her eyes.

“So… you've really never dated anyone?” Rachel asked slowly, cautiously. Her tone made Chloe wonder. Was Rachel using this game to scope her out, too?

Chloe turned away from her companion. The question wasn’t _that_ personal, but it still made her feel self-conscious. Eighteen-years-old, and not a single relationship to speak to. God, how much lamer could she get?

“I haven’t,” Chloe finally admitted. “I mean, I’ve hooked up with some people, but we were never really official or whatever.” Rachel’s hazel eyes focused intently on Chloe, analyzing her. Chloe could feel her face warm up. Damn it, why was she so lame around this girl?

“You’re embarrassed,” Rachel said finally. Chloe rolled her eyes as she fidgeted with her beanie.

“Of course I’m embarrassed. It’s embarrassing.” Her eyes remained focused on the dark cotton cap in her hands until she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. She immediately looked up and saw Rachel gazing her, that smoldering fucking gaze like she was staring into her soul.

“There’s _nothing_ embarrassing about that. You’re just waiting for the right person.” Chloe’s stone heart softened and leapt into her throat. “Seriously. Sure, all these people are dating each other now, but most of them are just doing it because it’s convenient. They don’t want to be alone, even if it means being with someone who makes no sense for them.”

“Are you… one of those people?” Chloe asked slowly, afraid of the answer. Before Rachel could say anything, however, a simple melody emanated from somewhere within the truck; Chloe soon realized that it was Rachel’s phone. Rachel took her phone from her pocket, glanced quickly at the screen, and then silenced the device before putting it back.

“Did you need to take that?” Chloe asked. Rachel shook her head.

“Not at all. Where were we?” Chloe still wanted to know if Rachel was one of those lonely people simply looking for a warm body, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask again. The moment had passed.

“You’ve only got one finger left,” Chloe responded. She grinned. “This is the end for you.” Rachel raised her eyebrows.

“You’re on,” she replied, because she had never been one to back down from a challenge.

“Never have I ever--” The melody began again. Rachel was visibly more annoyed as she dragged her phone from her pocket, her lips in a pout and her eyebrows creased.

“Maybe you should answer it?” Chloe suggested. Rachel shook her head and silenced her phone again.

“You’re more important. Okay, Price. Let’s see what you can do.” Something was amiss, but Chloe let it slide. Rachel said she was more important than whoever kept calling her, and that was all she needed to hear.

“All right. Never have I ever sexted someone.”

“Ugh,” Rachel said, leaving her one finger up, “that always seemed so--”

“Creepy and desperate?”

“Yeah. Definitely haven’t done that and I never will. Never have I ever gotten into a fist fight.” Chloe laughed as she put down a finger.

“If I had to put down a finger for every fist fight, we’d never have to play this game again.”

“Well, aren’t you tough? One finger left for both of us, Price.” Chloe resisted the urge to make another dirty joke after the first one had gone so… confusingly. Chloe decided to keep this Never Have I Ever simple.

“Never have I ever lived outside of Arcadia Bay, Earth’s shittest shithole.” Rachel laughed and, at last, put her last finger down.  Chloe pumped her first up in the air and cheered.

“I’m a Cali girl, born and raised,” Rachel said with a proud smile.

“I knew you were too good for this place,” Chloe remarked. “But since you were the first one out, you’re--”

“A total badass, right?” Rachel asked with a wink. Chloe smiled, though her newly awakened heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah. You are a badass, Rachel Amber.”

“So are you, Chloe Price.” The teenagers looked at each other for a moment. Chloe felt warm, at ease, and she knew that it wasn’t just the weed.

After a moment, Rachel sighed.

“I should head back,” she told Chloe.

“To where?” Chloe asked in spite of herself.

“I’m part of drama club, and we have a production that we’re working on. I need to work on memorizing my lines and getting the set together.”

“So, you’re a straight A student, rebel, future model, and an actress.”

“And so much more,” Rachel said with yet another wink. Rachel opened up her car door. She began to slide out, but then hesitated. Chloe waited until she turned back around.

“Chloe,” Rachel started, “can we… see each other again soon?”

“Y-yeah. Definitely,” Chloe stammered. Then, regaining her composure, “As a dropout with nowhere to go and nowhere to be, my schedule is uhh. Pretty free.” Rachel giggled.

“Then how about tomorrow afternoon? We can meet here again, same time.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed with a nod. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Rachel smiled. It was gentle, but it was genuine and yeah, like everything else Rachel did, it made Chloe’s heart flutter.

“Okay. Then… I’ll see you here tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Rachel.” Rachel finally slid out of the car and shut the door behind her. As she walked away, she waved one last time. Chloe waved back, instantly feeling emptier than she had a few moments ago. Her head dropped into her hands as she exhaled deeply.

Here was the excitement she'd been looking for, but Chloe had no idea if she was ready for it.


	3. Maybe We've Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Rachel meet again. This time, Rachel has a strange package with her. 
> 
> It changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends! This will be the last chapter before episode 3 comes out. I am HYPED beyond life itself. Let's meet again once we've had our brilliant end to Before the Storm :]

Chloe Price could not sleep that night. Whenever she closed her eyes, intrigued amber ones gazed back at her. She could still smell her scent, flowery and light. Had it been jasmine? Chloe really wished that she hadn't reeked of weed and showered on a regular basis.

I gotta fucking clean myself up, Chloe thought to herself as she laid on her bed in the dark. Put on cologne or something, actually do something with my hair…

Chloe still smoldered with thoughts of Rachel until the early hours of the next morning and awoke sometime around noon the next day. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes were wrinkled, and drool had dried to the side of her mouth. Despite her initial nervousness, she'd managed to sleep pretty well. Maybe that was a good sign.

She and Rachel wouldn’t be meeting at the junkyard for a bit yet, so Chloe took an actual, good shower with hair-washing and all. She ruminated over her outfit for a pathetic amount of time--god, did she feel like a teenage girl--before coming across an old shirt she hadn’t seen in ages: a black t-shirt with a white lighter, the word Firewalk written beneath it. Chloe smirked as she pulled the shirt over her head. Stealing the shirt had definitely been one of her better ideas. She threw a jacket over it and completed the look with her signature bullet necklace, some ripped jeans, and her favorite beanie.

Now that she didn’t smell like a trash can and looked relatively stylish (about as stylish as she figured she could get), Chloe made her way downstairs. Joyce would be at the diner for at least another couple hours, but there was no such luck with Dickbag. She was in a great mood, and she really didn’t want it ruined.

Luckily enough for her (and for the ex-military man himself, as he would miss all of her abuse), her joke of a stepfather was outside, waxing his shitty blue muscle car. She didn’t know when he had started, but she figured it would take long enough for him to finish that she could eat in peace.

There was leftover meatloaf in the fridge (which neither she _nor_ Joyce liked. Chloe rolled her eyes), but not much else since her mom had been pretty busy at work these days. The blue-haired teen settled on three bowls of sugary cereal which she ate with the gusto of a twelve-year-old boy.

Chloe still had a bit of time to kill before going to what she dared to call and desperately hoped was a date. When she placed her bowl in the dishwasher, she suddenly remembered: “Oh, shit. I need a screwdriver.” The screwdriver itself was easy enough to get due to the never-ending supply of tools in their garage. The only problem was the giant tool who was waxing his car outside of it.

Was it worth it? She really didn't want to risk her good mood, but when she thought of her and Rachel kicking back, listening to chill shit on the radio…

Damn it. She'd have to deal with stepdildo.

Her first plan was to just not be seen. As quietly as she could manage, she opened the door to the garage and slipped inside. She didn't shut the door all the way behind her, fearing the sound of the door closing would awaken his fucked-up army senses. Slowly, she crept across cement floor to the blue toolbox that sat on the opposite side of the room. General Douchebag was working on one of the rims, lost in his own world. Good.

Quietly, she flipped the lid to the toolbox. It only took her a moment to find what she needed.

Prepare phase 2, Chloe thought to herself as she slipped the screwdriver into her back pocket. She snuck back across the garage, surprised at her coordination and soundlessness. Soon enough, she had made it back into the house with stepdildo ever noticing.

“Damn, I am a motherfucking ninja,” Chloe mumbled to herself. She could head to the junkyard now and maybe fiddle around with the truck. She already saw herself at the wheel with the windows down, music blaring. Rachel would be sitting beside her, golden hair gleaming in the sunlight and flowing with the breeze. Maybe they couldn’t leave Arcadia Bay for good, but getting away even just for a little, with Rachel by her side… Chloe’s face became warm.

What the hell? Why was she having fantasies about running away with a girl she just met? Sure, she was hot--really fucking hot--but seriously? She needed to get a grip. Working on the truck in the junkyard would be a welcome distraction.

Chloe scurried out the front door, a little too eager to get to the truck, and of course completely forgot who she’d been trying to evade. Now that very person, who had been on his knees, inspecting one of his rims, looked up at the young woman in the doorway.

“Chloe,” he said evenly, watching her closely.

“David,” Chloe said back, her voice dripping with venom. David got up to his feet, wiped off his hands with an old towel.

“Where are you headed on a Sunday afternoon?” Was this his attempt at starting a friendly conversation? Pathetic.

“Out.”

“Out _where_?”

“What do you care?” Chloe asked. She tried to make her way past him, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to let this go.

“I _care_ because we’re family. Even if you don’t want to admit that.” Chloe rolled her blue eyes.

“I didn’t realize that being a family meant being interrogated every time I want to step foot outside of the house.” David wiped at his nose with the back of his hand.

“I’m serious, Chloe. I’ve been hearing about some… some bad people lately. I want to make sure you’re not getting mixed up with them.” The blue-haired girl snorted.

“I probably already have, so you don’t need to worry about that. Am I excused now, _sir?_ ” David shook his head and sighed.

“Chloe, we could just avoid all this hostility if you _trusted_ me a little. I’m not asking because I don’t trust you--I’m asking because I don’t trust _them."_

“Uh-huh.” David sighed yet again.

“Look, just… be home by sundown. Your mother is planning on cooking something nice for us.” Finally. He wasn’t about to go down Bullshit Road with her; he was too busy fiddling with his car. She hoped the fumes would kill off the very tiny amount of brain cells he had left.

“Yeah, whatever you say, boss,” Chloe replied, finally able to step away. She made her way down the street, sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. If dickbag had known that she was patching up a truck to eventually escape Arcadia Bay... God, she couldn’t even walk to the front lawn without him on her ass. She was glad the conversation ended where it did.

After casually strolling for a half hour, Chloe arrived at the junkyard. She followed the trail--which was more of a break in the trash--to the rusted truck. Now she could finally be in peace. Just her, the truck, and all the other abandoned crap no one wanted. It was quiet, aside from the sound of leaves scuttling in the early autumn breeze. Chloe hopped into her chariot and stuck the screwdriver into the ignition.

After a couple revs, it started. The engine actually _started._

“Oh my God,” Chloe said aloud to herself. “Oh my God, it actually works. This can’t be real. Is this real?” Chloe asked the singing bobblehead. She tapped its head, and it affirmed that this was, in fact, reality.

“Fucking sweet,” Chloe muttered. She began fidgeting with all the dials, trying to find the good radio stations. She played around with the air conditioning, trying to see if it still worked. She put the car into drive, just to see if it actually would, and it slowly rolled forward. She nearly passed out with glee.

Oh, she was getting the fuck out of Arcadia Bay. Maybe not today, but… this was a good sign. This truck working and being here and her being here was a good sign. Chloe leaned back and smiled. Maybe, finally, things were starting to go her way…

A tapping on glass brought Chloe out of her reverie. Speaking of things getting better… A girl with shimmering blonde hair leaned against the passenger’s side of the truck, a familiar coy smile on her face. Chloe smirked back. She reached over and manually rolled down the window of the ancient truck.

“A hitchhiker? All the way out here?” she asked, feigning surprise. Rachel raised a thumb.

“You caught me. Can you give me a ride? I’m desperate.”

“Hmm, well, I dunno. What are you willing to do it for it?” The other girl pretended to think for a moment.

“Well, a lot of things. But none that I can say out loud.”

The door to the passenger’s side flew open.

“You’re in,” Chloe said immediately. Rachel gave her a devilish grin as she entered, then settled in and closed the door behind her. Today she sported a forest green army jacket over a black tank top. It was low cut but just high enough that Chloe had to use her imagination, to her dismay. She wore distressed denim and low top sneakers. The azure feather still hung from her left ear. She also held a manila envelope in both hands. Chloe wondered what it was for, but Rachel paid it no attention. Instead, she seemed focused on something unknown to Chloe.

“There’s AC,” the model said suddenly. Chloe grinned from ear-to-ear.

“That’s because the truck works. Like, fully functional, ‘could-drive-this-shit-out-of-here-right-now’ works.”

“Holy shit.” Rachel raised her eyebrows, then leaned back into the rainbow towel. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the cool air on her skin, before she turned and looked at Chloe. “This… is awesome.”

“Right?”

“I’m so envious right now. You could seriously drive out of Arcadia Bay right now and _never_ look back.”

“That's the plan. Well, eventually. First I need money.” Rachel leaned back again, contemplated for a moment.

“Money _is_ important,” she agreed, “but not as important as having a way to get out of here. You’ve already got the one thing that matters the most.”

“I mean, I guess,” Chloe replied with a shrug, “but it would still be helpful to not have to worry about how I’m going to eat the next day.”

“Also very true,” Rachel glumly agreed. “You’ll get there, though. I know you’ll make it out of this town, one way or another.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And when you go, take me with you.” Fuck. Just like Chloe had imagined. Rachel wasn’t serious, though, right? They’d known each other for a day. She had to be joking.

“Sure, Amber,” Chloe said, playing along. “As long as you remember all of those things you can’t say out loud.” Rachel laughed.

“Scout’s honor,” she said, holding up a hand. “Though I was never a girl scout.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Chloe responded dryly. Rachel suddenly leaned up. She must have realized something else.

“Oh my god. Are you wearing a _Firewalk_ shirt?”

“Yeah. You know them?” Chloe asked.

“I _love_ them,” Rachel responded. Her smile lit up her angular, beautiful face. “I actually saw them play live a couple years ago.”

“Oh my god,” Chloe said, unconsciously leaning forward. “At the old sawmill?”

“Yes! Oh my god. They were so good, weren’t they?”

“They were incredible. Definitely one of the best nights of my life.”

“Oh my god. You don’t think we saw each other there, do you?” Rachel asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Chloe shrugged.

“I mean, we totally could have. Though I don’t think I saw you. I definitely would’ve remembered seeing someone like you there.”

“Oh yeah?” Rachel asked. The look on her face let on that she knew more than she would say. Chloe rolled her eyes.

“I mean, mostly there were a bunch of skeevy dudes. Including the guy I stole this shirt from.”

“You stole that shirt?” Rachel asked, clearly impressed. Chloe grinned, feeling triumphant.

“The asshole had it coming. Do you remember the dude who was selling merch out of the back of his car?”

“Yeah, though like, I think his car ended up in a ditch outside of the mill or something?” Chloe’s grin grew wider.

“Yeah. That was me. I released the parking brake and, whoosh, there it went.” Rachel laughed, and it was real and it was adorable. Chloe wanted to make her laugh always.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious,” Rachel replied.

“Dead serious. He shouldn’t have charged twenty bucks for a t-shirt.” Rachel shook her head, a genuine smile still gracing her face.

“You are hella amazing, Chloe Price.” Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“‘Hella’? Uhh, no offense, but who says that?” she asked. Rachel chuckled.

“It’s a Cali thing,” she said simply, dismissively. “Damn, you’ve really gotten into some crazy stuff. I wish we could’ve met sooner and gotten into it together.”

“Me too,” Chloe admitted. It felt a little weird to confess, but it was true. Chloe wish they’d met sooner so that she hadn’t wasted a whole summer alone. She bashfully flicked her blue eyes up at Rachel, and she was met with a gentle smile that turned her cheeks pink.

“We’ll make up for lost time,” Rachel said with a nod. “Oh, speaking of.” She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a joint. “To thank you for yesterday,” she said, handing the rolled paper to Chloe.

“Oh, wow. You didn’t have to, but I sure as hell won’t say no,” Chloe said with a smile. Rachel smiled back.

“I figured.” Chloe leaned forward so that she could pull her lighter from her back pocket.

“By the way,” Chloe said, the joint between two fingers of her hand and her lighter in the other, “what’s with the giant envelope?”

“Oh, right!” Rachel said, looking down at the yellow envelope in her lap. “Actually, I don’t know. I saw it on the way out of my house and saw that it was addressed to me, but I didn’t really have time to look through it. There’s a cassette in it, though.” Chloe snorted.

“A cassette tape? Like, from the ‘90s?”

“Yeah. Bizarre. But I thought that since this truck is so old…” Chloe rapped her knuckles on the dashboard.

“You thought right,” she said. “This old girl _only_ has a cassette player, so you really lucked out with that. Still, what weirdo sends cassettes in the mail?”

“I dunno,” Rachel said. Her thin eyebrows knitted together as she regarded the front of the envelope. “It just says it’s from Lacuna Inc. Whoever the hell they are.” Chloe flicked her lighter, held the blunt end of the joint up to the flame, and waited for it to light.

“Well, let’s see what they have to say,” she said, leaning back and taking a puff of her freshly-lit smoke. Rachel obliged, pulling the tape out of the envelope and popping it into the cassette player.

“Hello,” said a male voice. It sounded middle-aged, professional. “My name is Doctor Howard Mierzwiak. We’ve met before, but you don’t remember me. Of that, I can be sure.”

“Well that’s ominous. The fuck’s that mean?” Chloe asked. Rachel shrugged.

“I am the founder and head physician at Lacuna Incorporated. Due to a recent bout of legal issues, I am now required to release this cassette tape to you. You are, by no means, obligated to listen to what comes after this message. In fact, what comes after may startle you, upset you. It may not even make any sense. But I am required to tell you that you were a patient of my clinic and that you had a certain experimental procedure performed on you by my staff.”

“What the fuck?” Rachel whispered, her hazel eyes wide. Chloe’s blue eyes grew wide as well.

“Now, I mean you no alarm; my team is highly skilled, and I can assure you that no damage was done to you--other than any damage you or a legal guardian consented to yourself.

“A recording from our session will play shortly after this message. Again, you in _no way_ have to listen to the contents of this tape past this point.

“I thank you for your time and your trust. If you have any questions, please feel free to reach back out to our clinic. Please take care.” The truck became silent as the tape whirred softly, readying itself to play the next track.

“What the fuck is this?” Chloe asked, her voice hoarse. One of her hands clutched the joint, the other, the steering wheel.

“I don’t know,” Rachel muttered, panic obvious in her voice. “Maybe it’s a joke, or maybe it’s for someone else. I don’t know. He never actually mentioned my name.”

The tape began to play.

“Okay, Miss Amber,” came the same male voice. Doctor Howard Mierzwiak. “Why don’t you get started by stating your name and why you’re here.”

“My name is Rachel Amber,” came Rachel’s voice. Chloe was surprised not only to hear it, but the way it sounded… Rachel was emotional, unsteady. “I’m here to erase Chloe Price.”

Rachel’s face completely drained of color. Chloe simply stared.

“Excellent,” responded the doctor in his slow, drawling way of speaking. “And then, Mr. Amber, if you could state your name and give your consent…”

“Of course,” came another male voice, deep and confident. “My name is James Amber. I am Rachel’s father and legal guardian, and I give consent for my seventeen-year-old daughter to go through with this procedure.”

“Perfect. Perfect, Mr. Amber. If you could go ahead and take a seat in our reception area… Rachel will be back with you once we get through some questions.”

“Of course. Thank you, Doctor Mierzwiak. Rachel.” There was a beat, long enough for a father to place a reassuring hand on his daughter’s shoulder before he left the room. A door opened and closed.

“All right, Miss Amber. Let’s start with how you met Miss Price.”

“I met… _Chloe_ at a concert. When I was fifteen,” recorded Rachel began, her voice shaking. “It was for this band we both loved, Firewalk. They announced a secret show at this old sawmill outside of town.” Recorded Rachel paused. “I’d… I’d never talked to her before that. I’d seen her around the hallways at Blackwell and... I always wanted an excuse to talk to her, but… I couldn’t think of a way to make it happen naturally. Which was so stupid, because I got along with everyone and I’m sure we could’ve been friends if I’d just _talked_ to her.

“But then she… at the sawmill, she was just… there. Arguing with the bouncer, trying to get in… it was like… it was a sign, you know? I was finally going to meet her…”

“What… the _fuck_ is this?” Chloe asked again, her voice barely a whisper. The knuckles gripping the steering wheel had turned bright white.

“I don’t know,” Rachel responded, her voice also a broken whisper. “It’s… it’s me, but I… what the fuck?”

“God, I wish I knew better,” recorded Rachel said with a sniffle. “All that time I spent wondering what she was like, what she liked to do, if we’d be friends if we actually met. Now I wish I’d never met her at all.”

“What did Miss Price do to make you feel this way, Miss Amber? What did she do to make you want to erase her from your memory?” Mierzwiak asked.

Chloe slammed her fist on the dashboard. The bobblehead stupidly nodded and grinned. Rachel jumped, but she didn’t speak. Tears welled up in her russet eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I erase her?” the recorded Rachel asked with a bitter laugh. Her voice sounded distant, haunted. “I feel like at first, she was so good for me… she was so good to me, we were so good to each other. I did love her, you know? I was head over heels for her.

“But then the more time I spent with her, the more I… lost myself?” Rachel on the recording sniffled again. “It was like… I had to be hers and hers alone. I couldn’t be around other people without her hounding me, always asking where I’d been, who I was with… and when I was with her, which was almost always, I could only be one version of myself, the version of myself I was with her. It was… _suffocating."_

“Rachel,” Chloe whispered, her hands falling to her sides. The joint dropped to the ground, unnoticed. Rachel turned to her, panic in her watery eyes.

“Chloe,” she said back, her voice breaking. “Chloe, I… I don’t know what this."

“Being with Chloe was suffocating,” recorded Rachel said. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

“Get out,” Chloe whispered.

“Chloe, wait--”

“I need to erase Chloe Price.”

The blue-haired teen hit the eject button, and the tape popped out. She snapped it up and nearly threw it at the girl sitting next to her. The model flinched, and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“Chloe, I don’t know what this is. I swear to God. I don’t… It’s not even _possible._  Chloe--”

“Get the FUCK out of my truck,” the blue-haired young woman spat, not even looking at the girl beside her. “Get the fuck out.”

“Chloe,” Rachel sobbed, at a loss for anything else to say. What _could_ she say? She reached out to touch her companion, but Chloe immediately shook her off.

“Fuck you,” Chloe muttered, tears now falling down her face as well. Rachel lingered for a moment longer. She took the tape and put it back in the manila envelope. She wordlessly opened up the passenger door. She hesitated for another moment, looked back at the girl of which she’d grown so fond the last twenty-four hours. Chloe simply stared ahead, both hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Her jaw was clenched tight, her lips clamped together, and tears still fell from her eyes. She refused to acknowledge Rachel in any capacity, despite the fact that she stared directly at her, her gaze burning into her flesh.

Without another word, Rachel slid out of the truck and slammed the door. Chloe could hear a broken sob escape her lips before she ran off. Chloe’s heart completely and utterly fucking sank.

What the fuck was going on?

What had past Rachel done?

Chloe’s head dropped into her hands as she openly began to weep. The things Rachel had said on that tape… there was no denying it had been her. No one else sounded like Rachel Amber. No one had her silky voice, her inflection, the liveliness in their words.

How had they met before? How was it possible that Chloe didn't remember meeting her? 

Why had Rachel said those things about Chloe, and why didn’t she remember saying them? Was she lying about not knowing what the tape was? Could she even trust Rachel?

Chloe wailed. Her nose was dripping and her hands were shaking. It was pathetic.  
What the fuck was going on, and _why did it hurt so fucking much?_


	4. This Can't Be Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe pays a visit to the Amber household a week after her big fight with Rachel. Things definitely are not as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! It's good to see you again. Thanks, as always, for your comments and kudos!
> 
> So... BTS episode 3 was... something. It did help me get a much better grip on James as a character, which came in handy for this chapter. But also. What were those last ten seconds?
> 
> Come escape with me through this story. We'll forget the pain for a little while. [sobs while smiling]

She must have been blocked. The sheer number of times she had tried Rachel’s phone, only for it to go straight to voicemail, the dozens of texts that went unanswered. It would have taken too much energy to individually ignore each one.

“God _damn it_!” Chloe snarled, throwing her phone onto her bed. It had only been a week since things had gone south, since that huge argument that had seemingly ended everything. But Chloe wouldn't let it be over. She didn't want things between the two of them to be over.

Yes, she'd said some hurtful, fucked up things, but it was only because she was afraid. She could feel this strange, unavoidable distance steadily growing between them, and it scared Chloe out of her fucking mind. Every time she wanted to talk to Rachel about it, the words died in her throat. She didn't want to risk making the divide any greater.

But that night a week ago, everything had spilled out in rage, insecurity. And just like that, Rachel disappeared from her life.

No, Chloe thought, gritting her teeth. She wouldn't let her. Things couldn't end like this. She had to apologize and she had to talk to her, really talk to her. They had to sort out this shit going in between them, even it would be painful, ugly.

Chloe quickly threw on her pleather jacket and grabbed the keys to her truck. It was a Saturday afternoon, so the odds that Rachel would actually be at home were dicey. She hadn’t heard of any Vortex parties, though, and drama club had officially ended for the year. Rachel had to be home because Chloe had to fix this.

The blue-haired teen sprinted downstairs. Unbeknownst to her, her mother sat at the dining room table, reading a novel as she waited for dinner to finish in the oven.

“Chloe?” Joyce asked from the room over. “Is that you stomping around?”

“Yes,” Chloe said quickly. She gritted her teeth and willed this not to turn into a debacle. There wasn’t any time.

“Try to keep it down, will you? David needs to rest before his late shift tonight.” Chloe rolled her eyes. If the old wives’ tale had been true, they would’ve been stuck that way several years ago.

“Don’t worry--I’m going out so he’ll be able to have his army PTSD nightmares in peace.”

“Chloe, do _not_ be insensitive.”

“All right, all right,” Chloe quickly relented. She was still lingering in the foyer, letting her mom berate her when she should’ve been on her way to sweep her girl off of her feet. “Look, I’ll be back later, all right?”

To Chloe’s dismay, Joyce appeared in the doorway between the living room and the hall. Her blonde hair was up in its usual messy bun, her eyes tired. Chloe felt a lump form in her throat and tried to swallow past it.

“You’re going out?” Joyce asked. “You’re going to miss dinner.”

“I know. I’m sorry, it’s just… important.”

“Are you taking the truck?”

“Uhh, yeah. I’m just going over to Rachel’s.”

“Well is that right? I feel like it’s been a little while since I’ve heard you say that. No wonder you’re skipping out on dinner.” Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes up to the ceiling again.

“It’s only been a week, Mom. It’s not a big deal.” Joyce raised her hands in defense.

“If you say so. Just be careful, honey, okay? Try to drive like a responsible human being for once.”

“Ha ha. Will do, Mom. I’ll see you later.”

“Let’s spend some time together when you get back,” Joyce added before her daughter had a chance to leave. Then, a little more quietly, “I would like that.” Chloe swallowed hard, already feeling more like shit than she already did. Her mom would be here, waiting with dinner. Rachel, though? She didn’t know. Chloe nodded.

“Yeah, Mom. We can watch a shitty Lifetime movie or something,” she agreed. She wasn’t actually sure if she would be back that night--if things went well, she’d likely be staying at Rachel’s--but she had to promise. Her mother was so haggard, vulnerable. It wasn’t just a shit life for Chloe, but for her mom, too.

Nearly running, Chloe made her way into her truck. The singing bobblehead greeted her with a smile as she stuck the keys in the ignition. She threw the truck into reverse, backed out of the driveway exactly as a responsible human would not, and then zoomed down her quiet neighborhood street.

It would only take her fifteen minutes to get to Rachel’s. Rachel would play hard to get at first. She always did. But after Chloe said sorry an adequate number of times and confessed to being Arcadia Bay’s largest asshole, she’d come around. She’d begrudgingly smile at her, take her by both hands. If she were really lucky, Rachel would guide her over to her bed…

She couldn’t get too far ahead of herself. She had to fix the problem first, really fix it. There’d be plenty of time for make-up shenanigans later if everything went according to plan. Which it had to.

Chloe put on some music to relax. One of the shitty things about having a decades-old truck was that it only came with a cassette player. Luckily, Chloe had found an attachment that let her connect her phone’s music through the tape player. She tried texting Rachel one last time, but she didn’t expect much.

The streets of Arcadia Bay felt sleepy, despite the summer sun beaming down, bidding everyone to come outside into its warmth. This place was such a shithole. She had to get out, and Rachel had to be there with her. Otherwise, there was no point.

It felt like time was against her; she hit every red light, she got stuck behind some dillhole who didn’t realize the speed limit was really just a suggestion. But eventually, she pulled up onto Rachel’s quiet side street. She parked a little ways away from the Amber home, just so Rachel wouldn’t be able to see her pull up and then hide somewhere. That thought did seem a little serial-killeresque, she realized, but she was desperate.

She locked the doors to the truck and sprinted down the pavement. The Amber house was one of the most impressive ones on the block with its masterful, modern yet rustic mix of brick and wood. No lights were on in the two-story house, but it was still pretty early in the day. Chloe exhaled sharply and then marched up to the entrance. She rang the doorbell, just once, and then waited.

She waited…

One of the stained glass door slowly swung open. In the doorway stood a middle-aged man wearing a pastel orange polo and what seemed to be freshly creased khakis. His dark eyes were deep set, serious, and surrounded by creases, but Chloe noticed a little light flash across them as he took in the sight of her.

“Chloe,” said James Amber, regarding the blue-haired teenager on his doorstep. “It's good to see you.”

“Mr. Amber,” Chloe said, almost as a relieved sigh. She didn't expect that she would ever be so glad to see him, and yet it was happening.

“We didn’t expect you,” James said, running a hand through his dark, greying hair.

“Well, you know me,” Chloe began, trying to laugh, “I’m Arcadia Bay’s queen of spontaneity.” James nodded.

“This, we know to be very true. Ah--can I help you with something?” Chloe hesitated. Maybe he didn’t know about the fight between her and his daughter. Sure, he and Rachel were close, but maybe not so close that she would tell him about her girl drama.

“Err, is she home?” Chloe asked slowly, her stomach suddenly in knots. She didn’t know what she’d do if Rachel weren’t actually home. James gazed at Chloe for a moment.

“She is,” he said finally, his words deliberate, slow.

“Can I see her?” Chloe asked. It was odd. Chloe had always been accepted into the Amber home with open arms (so long as it wasn’t too late at night--then she’d have to sneak in through Rachel’s window). It felt strange, now, that Rachel’s father was suddenly playing the gatekeeper, preventing her from seeing the most important person in her life. He definitely knew something, and it couldn’t have been anything good.

“Chloe,” James began. He was such a politician, clearly searching for the perfect bullshit answer to give her. “I don’t think now is a good time.”

“Why?” Chloe asked. She didn’t want to come off too defensive, but she really wasn’t in the mood for James Amber’s bullshit. She knew enough dirty secrets about him that she could ruin his career right there, right then if she wanted. She just cared too much about his daughter to do so. “Why isn't now a good time?”   
  
"She's... not quite herself right now," James finally answered.                                                       

“Is she sick?” Chloe asked. “I don’t care if she gets me sick. I--I just want to see her.”

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Then can you tell me what it’s like? I’m sorry, but she hasn’t answered my calls, my texts, social media… I’m about to send her a freaking carrier pigeon at this point, and I know how much they crap around the house.” James shook his head. To her astonishment, he reached out and placed a warm, strong hand on her shoulder. He actually looked sad, the creases of his eyes more apparent, and it made Chloe nervous. What exactly had happened to Rachel?

“Chloe. This truly is out of my hands. This time, it really is between you and Rachel.”

“But she won’t talk to me,” Chloe admitted, and she was almost embarrassed by how pathetic she sounded. If this weren’t Rachel she was talking about, she certainly would have been embarrassed.

“I know,” James said finally. “She won’t talk to me, either. I wish… I wish things were different. I wish I still understood my daughter. I wish she would come talk to me when something troubled her, the way she used to... but at the end of the day, Chloe, I can only do so much. And so can you.” Chloe’s steely blue eyes narrowed.

“What are you saying?”

James sighed, a deep sigh. A sigh that took her back to more troubled times, sitting in a hospital waiting room, not knowing if the girl she loved was going to see another day. James reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out his wallet. From it, he retrieved a small slip of goldenrod paper. He handed it to the teen standing before him.

“I’m not… supposed to show you this. But I think you deserve the truth. The entire truth, so far as I know.” Chloe’s stomach dropped to her knees.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice hoarse. James averted his dark eyes before bringing them back to Chloe’s light ones.

“Rachel isn’t… sick. She’s just…” He cleared his throat, waved the paper in his hand. “I think this would explain it better than I could.”

Chloe stared at the slip. It was just a tiny sheet of paper. How bad could it be? Yet her pale hands still trembled as she took it from her girlfriend’s father and turned it over.

Some parts had been neatly written by a typewriter, while everything in underline had simply been written in. In the corner were the words LACUNA INC. with a business address. The note began:

 _Dear_ _Mr. and Mrs. Amber_ _,_

_Rachel Amber_ _h_ _as had_ _Chloe Price_ _erased from_ _her_ _memory. Please never mention their relationship to_ _Rachel_ _again._

_Thank you._

Chloe stared.

_Rachel Amber has had Chloe Price erased from her memory._

_Please never mention their relationship to Rachel again._

Chloe needed to sit down. She slowly shuffled to the bench on the Amber porch and sat down, barely cognizant of her actions. James Amber followed behind her, took a seat next to her, but still gave her enough space to process.

“What… is this?” Chloe whispered. James shook his head.

“It’s a notice from a clinic. An, err, surgical clinic called Lacuna.”

“This can’t be real,” Chloe said hoarsely. Rachel… had erased her? From her memory?

“I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m truly sorry, but it is.” His expression held genuine sorrow, and he had a hard time looking directly at her. “Like I said: I wish I still understood Rachel. I wish she still talked to me.” He sighed, hunched over. He looked so old, fragile. As much as Chloe had hated him at times, she truly felt for him in this moment.

“One day,” he began, “she came into my office and said she needed to talk to me. She’d seemed terribly upset the last few days. I wanted to know why, but I also didn’t want to pry, so I didn’t ask.

“She showed me this place, Lacuna…” James pinched the bridge of his nose as though he were attempting to fend off a headache. “She said that they specialized in a certain surgical procedure where certain parts of your memory could be erased. I asked her why in God’s name she would want to do something like that, but… she was incredibly tight-lipped about it. I guess she got her habit of secret-keeping from me.”

Chloe would have snorted if she weren’t in a total state of shock.

“So she…” the blue-eyed teen started, “she asked you to just… let her get her memory wiped, and you said _yes_?” James re-settled himself on the bench.

“Look, Chloe. I’m not _proud_ of this decision. I’m not happy that Rachel felt this was the only way to handle her problems. But I…” He paused, clearly choked up. For the second time that day, Chloe felt a lump forming in her throat.

“I haven’t been as good a father as I can be to Rachel. Lord knows I try, but… every single day, I feel her slipping away from me… She just seems so distant, so… _angry_. I don’t know how to fix it. I’m scared that if I reach out to her, she’ll shove me away even harder.

“So if there were one thing I could’ve done to get in her good graces… to let her know that I support her, no matter what… it was this. It was letting her erase you.” Chloe swallowed hard, stared ahead. Her vision of the house across the street, the hedges, started to blur. No. _Fuck_ no. She was not going to cry here. She wasn’t…

“So you let her erase me. The last two years are just… gone.”

“Only as far as you’re concerned, they are. She still remembers most things, but you… you’re… cut out from them, as if you were never there. Dinners we had, movies we watched together… she knows about them, but she doesn’t have the faintest idea that you were there.”

“Let me see her,” Chloe said softly. James’s jaw set as he shook his head.

“Chloe… I’m sorry, but… no.”

“I want to see her. Just to see if… if she remembers me.”

“She won’t, Chloe. I promise you. She may be fascinated by you, by the blue hair and the tattoos, by your personality, but she won’t know you. She’ll see you as a totally new person.”

“Why didn’t she just  _talk_ to me?” Chloe finally screamed, because she couldn’t stop herself, nor did she really care to.

“Chloe, please,” James said, placing his hand on her shoulder again. “Please. I know that this hurts you, but please try to keep it down. For Rachel’s sake.” Chloe scoffed.

“ _Rachel’_ s sake?” she asked incredulously. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks despite herself. “ _Rachel’s sake_? She fucking _erased_ me! All because of one stupid fight! I mean I--I knew she was mad, but we could’ve worked it out. We could’ve gotten past this! Why wouldn’t she just _talk to me_?”

“Like I said, Chloe,” James said sadly, “I don’t know the specifics. I just know that she’d been quite down the last few days. Her eyes were… red, puffy. She headed straight to her room after coming back from anywhere, and she stopped joining us at dinner. I… I had no idea what troubled her so much. By the time she had asked for the procedure, I didn’t know what… or _whom_ she was erasing. Not until it was happening.”

“If you had, would you have stopped her?”

It was a loaded question, and there was no right way to answer it. Even James Amber’s best bullshit couldn’t get him out of this one.

“Chloe,” James said quietly, but the teenager cut him off.

“ _Would you_?” she asked again. She was hysterical, but she didn’t care. Just like that, the most important person in her life was gone, and she didn’t have any fucking answers. James closed his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have,” he said softly. “I care for you, Chloe, and not just because you care for my daughter. But that’s what she is, first and foremost. Rachel is my daughter, and I am her father. I have to do whatever is in my power to make her happy. If she felt that you were no longer making her happy, and if I had the power to change that, then I would. I would one hundred times over. And I did.” Chloe hiccuped, angrily wiped at her face with her tattooed arm.

“Gee, thanks, Mr. Amber. It’s not like I _saved her life_ or anything.” It was a low blow, but so was erasing your girlfriend from memory without her consent.

“Chloe--” James said quickly, his voice more stern, but the teenager rose to her feet.

“No, you know what? It’s fine. You’re right. There’s no way the two of us would’ve worked this out. If she was that willing to forget me, then clearly I didn’t mean shit to her.”

“Chloe, you know that she cared--” James began, rising to his feet as well.

“Just forget it,” Chloe spat. “Have you checked to see if they do two-for-one specials? That way you can erase me, too, and maybe even Mrs. Amber while you’re at it. All of you can live your happy pretend life and forget that I ever existed.”

“Chloe--” James said again, but it was too late. She had already taken off. She ran down the street, the world around her a blur as angry tears continued to stream down her face.

Fuck Rachel. Fuck James. Fuck anyone who had anything to do with this.

She threw open the door to her truck, stuck the keys in the ignition, and fucking floored it. She didn’t care if she wasn’t in a state to drive. She just needed to get as fucking far away from the place as possible. She needed to leave Arcadia Bay, though this time, it seemed, it would be without Rachel. Without her angel.

Chloe let out an anguished sob. How could this be happening? How could this even be real? In what universe could people get their minds erased, let alone _selectively_?

Why had things turned out so fucked up, like everything else in her piece of shit life?

And then, it came to her. She had just sped through a red light (much to the chagrin of an angry soccer mom in her SUV--Chloe flipped her the bird) when she realized.

Rachel had erased her from her memory.

Well, two could play this head-fuck of a game.

Chloe, sure as shit, could erase her, too.


	5. Blessed Are the Forgetful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe prepares to make perhaps the greatest decision in her life: the decision to forget Rachel Amber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya friends! We meet again.
> 
> I'll warn you that this chapter has a pretty distinct lack of [the love of my life,] Rachel Amber. I hope this doesn't deter you from reading, though, or finding the story interesting! I'm always excited to read your comments--and feedback! Feel free to leave any regarding this chapter or, like, any chapter.
> 
> We're going to get a little more science fiction-y here. There are a couple quotes directly from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (the film this plot is based on), but nothing too huge.
> 
> All right! See you again soon!

Chloe Price sat alone at a mahogany desk in a dimly lit room. She absently scrolled through her phone, trying to distract herself from the rage that boiled in her veins. It wasn’t working particularly well, but soon, it would be as though none of it had ever existed.

A man in a white lab coat entered the room and delicately shut the open door behind him. Judging by his greying hair, wrinkles, and the slight belly peeking beneath his collared shirt, the teenager placed him in his 50s. He had bushy grey eyebrows to match his hair and dark, kind eyes to match the gentle smile on his face.

“Miss Price,” said Doctor Howard Mierzwiak as he made his way to his plush, leather chair.

“Doctor Mierzwiak,” Chloe carefully replied. She wasn’t really sure what to expect. Not just regarding the process itself, but her interaction with the man in front of her. Her grand entrance to Lacuna had been less than amiable; though the clinic had closed half an hour earlier, she pounded on the front door until her fist became raw. She had then bullied her way past a stunned receptionist and came ever so close to cussing out a security guard before the doctor himself made an appearance.

Instead of letting security gruffly toss Chloe out like she deserved, this Howard Mierzwiak had actually taken the time to sit with her and discuss what happened. Cheeks flushed with anger, she’d shoved the golden slip into the doctor’s face like an offense, showed him how the only girl she’d ever loved had horribly and utterly erased her. His thick eyebrows came together with concern as he listened to her tale. Only when Chloe had completely finished, chest heaving, face wet again with new tears, did the doctor speak.

“I do apologize, Miss Price. You should have never seen this paper,” he said in the slow drawl to which Chloe was now becoming accustomed. “We take patient confidentiality very seriously here, and everyone who receives one of these notices is held to the same standards. Clearly, there was a serious breach of trust here.” Chloe resisted the urge to spit “You think?”.

“Please don’t worry, though, Miss Price,” the doctor continued. “We’ll surely find a way to make this right, to the best of our ability, of course.” Chloe gave the doctor a grim smile.

“About that…” she began. “I was wondering if I could get the procedure done myself.” Mierzwiak raised his eyebrows, but otherwise didn’t seem too surprised.

“I thought you might say that.”

“And before you talk me out of it… I’m sure.” Chloe said, staring down the man across from her. Mierzwiak didn’t flinch; he simply stared back at her, thought over her proposal.

“Before you say that you would like to get this procedure, I want you to understand it thoroughly.” Chloe leaned forward in her seat.

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

He went through the rules. First, this procedure was technically brain damage. There was no way to erase the memories other than to damage certain parts of her brain associated with them. Nothing too serious, he had assured her. The damage would be “on par with a night of heavy drinking”. Chloe had had too many of those days to count, so the procedure sounded just fine to her.

“How exactly do we find just the memories associated with the person you want to erase, you may ask?” the doctor began. “My physicians and I actually create a map of your brain. The map will be based on your memories of the person in question: interactions you've had, physical objects that make you call them to mind, places you've been together, et cetera. Then, we track the parts of your brain that light up, or are associated with these memories, and it helps us create a… path of destruction, if you will.”

“That sounds metal,” Chloe couldn’t help but say. She expected disapproval, but the doctor laughed.

“Rather ‘metal’ indeed. What we’ll need from you, Miss Price, is any and every thing that makes you think of this person. Photographs, mementos, gifts you may have given each other. We’ll also have a recorded session in which you tell me every single thing you can remember regarding this person. I will need complete honesty and vulnerability from you, Miss Price.”

The blue-haired girl swallowed hard. She had a difficult time showing vulnerability to anyone, ironically, other than Rachel. It almost seemed as though the doctor knew this. Chloe wasn’t sure if she was just easy to read, or his hidden knowledge had something to do with what Rachel told him during her own session. Chloe’s stomach twist into a knot. She would probably never know what Rachel said about her. Maybe that was for the best.

“I’ll do it,” Chloe said suddenly, her voice steady, sure. Mierzwiak nodded.

“Now, you’re at least eighteen years of age, correct, Miss Price?” Mierzwiak asked.

“Eighteen this past March.”

“Excellent. We will, of course, need proof of age, such as a driver's license or state ID. You will not, however, need the consent of a legal guardian. I do stress, Miss Price, that you talk to any loved ones about this procedure. They will receive a slip in the mail, not unlike the one shown to you, stating that you have had your memory erased. I find that this conversation is much easier for patients to have _pre-_ procedure. I’m sure you can imagine why that might be.” Chloe nodded. She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell David--there was no need for that--but her mother was a different story.

Would it break her mother’s heart if she went through with this procedure, like it had with Rachel’s dad? Would her mother be hurt that she didn’t rely on her more, talk to her about her issues? Rachel’s dad had also said that he wasn’t happy that Rachel had chosen this route instead of trying to work things out. Would her mother feel the same, think that her daughter was running away from her problems? Chloe frowned. She hated disappointing her mother, but at the same time, it had pretty much become the standard. What was one more disappointment to add to the list?

Once the consent was figured out, there came the issue of money. This went without saying, but Chloe Price was dirt broke. She did have some odd cash lying around, but most of it was already owed to someone else: namely her dealer, Frank. She could pick up shifts at the Two Whales to make some more money, but Chloe was sure it wouldn’t be nearly enough. Her mother’s insurance might have covered some of the cost, but she really didn’t want to get her mother more involved than she needed to be if possible. As Chloe internally fretted, the doctor began to speak.

“Now, since the circumstances behind your procedure are rather unusual, I would be more than happy to offer you a severely reduced price for the operation.” Chloe raised her eyebrows. Surgery wasn’t ever supposed to have a sale price, was it?

“How reduced, exactly, are we talking here?” Mierzwiak pulled a checkered handkerchief from the pocket of his lab coat and coughed into it. He apologized, then took a pencil and wrote down a figure on a post-it note.

“When you said ‘severely reduced’, I was kind of hoping you meant, like, ten dollars,” Chloe muttered.

“Now now, Miss Price. This is the best we can do.” He paused, then added, “It’s about the cost of getting one’s wisdom teeth removed.”

“Ah. Well. I think I, uhh, feel my wisdom teeth coming in, so...” Mierzwiak smiled.

“I see… Now, if this is a price you are able to pay, I would be happy to move onto next steps as soon as possible. My schedule is rather tight, but I am willing to do everything in my power to make sure that this unfortunate situation is rectified sooner rather than later.” Chloe nodded.

“Thanks, Doc,” she said. She meant it. For once, someone was throwing her a bone. It was the first time in a long time, and Chloe felt more glad than she could express. The doctor stood up and extended a hand. Chloe followed suit.

“Thank _you_ , Miss Price, for coming to us directly to sort out this issue. It means more to us than you can know.”

“Uhh, yeah,” Chloe replied, because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Please get a good night’s rest, maybe a couple. If you decide that you still want to do this, come back in anytime, and we’ll take care of it.”

Chloe walked out of the clinic feeling extraordinarily lighter than she had when she first walked in. The pain was still there, of course… but soon, it would all be gone.

* * *

 Wisdom teeth, Chloe told her mom that night. They’d just started growing in, and they hurt like hell. She wanted to get them out as soon as possible, and she’d already made an appointment at a clinic nearby. Joyce pulled Chloe in for a tight hug, which Chloe returned half-heartedly. Her little girl was growing up, Joyce said, getting wiser by the day.

Her wisdom teeth weren’t coming in, and she certainly wasn’t getting any wiser, but her mom didn’t need to know that. Not right now.

Getting rid of everything that reminded her of Rachel was not a one day job, but she was determined to get it done. The day after she’d forced her way into Lacuna, she gathered everything Rachel-related that she could find: CD mixes Rachel had made her, clothes that Rachel had left in her closet or on her floor after a night of fun. Chloe stuffed all of it into garbage bags. She wanted to chuck them into the trash where they belonged, but Mierzwiak told her that they would need to identify all the objects and track how her brain responded to them. Chloe went through her journal and began ripping out any pages that mentioned Rachel. Then she realized that there wasn’t a single entry that didn’t mention her since the day that they’d met. With a cry of frustration, she threw the whole journal into a garbage bag.

So much of her life had become Rachel. In a way, it pained her to think of a life without her. A life where she’d never seen Rachel’s radiant smile, saw the way her eyes crinkled when she was thinking of mischief. The scent of jasmine, her soft hand in hers, the weight and feel of Rachel’s slim body on her, against her. Her hazel eyes reflecting back the sight of Chloe and all of the love she had for her. Chloe felt sick to her stomach remembering it, so she had to make sure she would forget it.

Chloe wanted to make sure that she tied up all the loose ends, so she made rounds to the places she and Rachel had gone the most. First was Overlook Park, where she and Rachel had spent their first day together. She took pictures for Lacuna’s reference and made sure she hadn’t left any graffiti that might jog her memory.

She also visited the lighthouse, finding the bench where she and Rachel had cuddled, contemplated, and kissed countless times. There, Rachel had scratched “RA + CP” into the wood with her nail file. Chloe would have smiled if she didn’t feel as though she were going to throw up. She glanced around, ensuring that no one was watching, before she covered the spot with black spray paint. The anarchy A would do.

Last, and most daunting of all, was the junkyard. Their hideout, a cement shack toward the back of the lot, had remained untouched since the last time Chloe visited. Apparently Rachel hadn’t taken the time to clean it out; the only memories she had of the junkyard were with Chloe, so maybe she had elected to erase the junkyard altogether. This thought filled Chloe with enough rage that she threw their photos, matching bracelets, and sweet notes to each other into the garbage bags without a second thought. She spray painted over any graffiti that showed they’d been together and crumpled up their posters of L.A.

She spent the entire day in this fashion, moving from site to site, stuffing things into garbage bags and throwing them into the bed of her truck. The next afternoon, she transported her endless supply of memories from the truck to Lacuna’s front door to one of the patient rooms. Mierzwiak watched her with a frown as she and a technician sorted through the items, but Chloe ignored it.

Everything was finally in place. She was getting the procedure done, whether Mierzwiak liked it or not. Tomorrow would be the day; Lacuna needed to get the work done during the night, so she chose a day where both David and Joyce would be working late shifts. Chloe would have felt giddy if she weren’t completely hollow inside.

It was only when she was getting ready to go to sleep that night when she realized she’d missed potentially the biggest reminder of them all. Chloe groaned, slipped on a pair of boots, and walked outside. She groaned again when she saw her truck.

Though it was basically a tetanus shot waiting to happen, Chloe loved her truck more than she loved herself. She had found it in the junkyard two years earlier and fixed it up herself using her dad’s old tools. The memories she had with Rachel in this car were numerous, whether they were coasting down the coast a late summer night or cuddling in the truck’s bed on a chilly autumn morning. There was no way she could see the truck and _not_ think of Rachel, of the murmured “I love you”s, gentle touches, blunts they’d smoked in amiable silence, citizens of Arcadia Bay they'd bitched about.

There was also the fact that the truck was her main method of transportation in Arcadia Bay and beyond. It was her one means of escape. Would she really give it up just to forget one person? One brilliant, beautiful, life-changing person?

One brilliant, beautiful, life-changing person who had forgotten her without a second thought?

Chloe flung open the door of her truck and got inside. She drove for about ten minutes before reaching the junkyard. She pulled the car up to the exact spot where she’d found it, took the keys out of the ignition, and stepped out.

All of the decorations--the red ceiling light, the pirate flag she used to cover the holes in the seats, the old rug she’d used to cover the rusted hole in the floor--were stuffed into a final garbage bag. Chloe doubted she would remember these miscellaneous items, but just to be safe, she decided to take the bag with her to Lacuna the next morning.

Chloe came across the singing bobblehead on the dashboard. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, absorbing his cheery smile, the guitar in his hands. Chloe tapped his head, and he nodded and gave his trademark idiotic grin. Chloe returned his smile with a sad one.

She couldn’t bring herself to throw him out. Maybe in another lifetime, someone else would come across the truck, find the silly little musician, and enjoy him like Chloe had. Now that that matter was settled, only one thing remained. Chloe then turned her attention to the keys to the truck.

She stared at them for a long time.

She whipped the car keys as far away as she could. They sailed over the junkyard and disappeared somewhere behind the abandoned boat. She highly doubted she would ever find them again, even if she did make her way back to the junkyard. Unlike Rachel, Chloe decided she wasn’t going to erase the junkyard in its entirety. Though she’d spent innumerable hours there with her angel, it was the only place she could escape to other than her truck, and she was already giving that up. She took a picture of the truck to give to Mierzwiak for the brain scan and called it a day.

Chloe made the thirty minute walk back to her home, dragging her feet the whole way so that it actually took forty-five minutes. She couldn’t stop herself from crying at various points. Though she was still infuriated by what Rachel had done to her, when the anger finally subsided, she was devastated.

All the looks, the laughs, the adventures they’d gone on… if Rachel had been able to erase her so easily, they must not have meant anything to her… but conversely, if she felt haunted by her memories as Chloe did, maybe erasing Chloe really had been Rachel’s only option. Chloe didn’t know, and she never would. But she knew she could never forgive Rachel for this, never forget this despair unless she erased Rachel in turn.

With this thought engraved into her mind, Chloe stepped into Lacuna Incorporated the next morning. It had been four days since Chloe had visited the Ambers, but the pain was still as raw as the moment she’d found out what Rachel had done to her. She was exhausted from hurting so much, and she just wanted the pain to stop.

The procedure had three phases. First, she went to one of the private patient rooms to create the map of her brain. The technician, Stan, placed all sorts of odd nodes on Chloe’s face, and then he asked her to wordlessly react to each of the items or photos Chloe had collected. Different parts of her brain would light up on the screen she was connected to, and Stan would jot down his notes. This process alone took about three hours. Chloe hoped this Stan guy made the big bucks.

Second, she met with Mierzwiak to create an audio log of every single memory she had of Rachel. This was the part where he insisted that Chloe be completely open and honest. It would be the most difficult part, but it had to be done. They sat in his office again, Chloe on one side of the mahogany desk and Mierzwiak on the other. He pressed record on the old tape recorder that sat upon his desk.

“Miss Price,” he began, “why don’t you begin by telling us your full name and why you’re here.”

Then, the final part was to wait for nightfall. Chloe went to the lighthouse, sparked up a blunt, and looked out at the ocean. The waves gently lapped at the shore, glimmering with the reflection of the soon-to-be setting sun.

It was bullshit, how life went on without regarding how terribly fucked up she felt. It wasn’t fair that other people got to continue their stupid bliss, oblivious to how she suffered. It wasn’t fair that Rachel got to continue, forgetting that she had once loved her. If she’d even loved her at all. Chloe wrapped her arms around herself and held back a sob. Rachel had to have loved her. Yes, they had their fights, they had their shitty tension and toxic moments. But what was it all for if not love?

By the time Chloe left the park and walked back home, the sun had nearly set. David had already left for his shift at Blackwell, but Joyce was getting ready to head to the diner.

“Chloe,” Joyce said as Chloe walked inside. She sounded surprised, even though they lived in the same household. “How are ya, hun?” Her daughter shrugged.

“Nothing new to report in the shitty life of Chloe Price.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” Joyce lightly reprimanded her daughter. “You’ve got plenty of things to feel grateful for. For example, the leftover turkey waiting for you in the fridge.” Chloe raised her eyebrows. Normally she couldn’t resist, but she’d barely eaten the last few days; her diet had mostly consisted of cigarettes and beer.

“Thanks, but… I think I’ll pass. Just feeling under the weather, I guess.” Joyce stepped up to her daughter and placed a hand on her forehead. Chloe let her, so as not to start a fight when she was so close to getting what she wanted.

“Hmm. Your temperature feels fine. Do you think it’s a bug?” Joyce asked. Chloe shrugged again.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I think I’m going to just… lay down.”

“Help me with my apron real quick before you go, would you?” Joyce asked, turning around. Chloe sighed, but she obliged her mother. Once Chloe was done, Joyce turned back around and ran her hands down the front of her white apron, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.

“Take care of yourself now, honey. If you need me to come back home, you give the diner a call, okay?”

“Yeah, will do.” Joyce watched Chloe’s face, affectionately ran a hand through her blue hair. Again, Chloe let her.

“I’ll see you soon, all right?” Joyce said.

“Yeah, Mom,” her daughter replied. “See you later.”

The teenager trudged upstairs. She closed the door to her room behind her, leaned against it, and then sighed heavily. She was really going to do this. She was going to erase Rachel Amber as if she had never existed.

“You’re the real thing, Chloe Price.” Rachel’s voice echoed in her head. Chloe willed herself to ignore it.

Chloe changed into baggy shirt and some sleeping shorts. Next, she dry swallowed pill the doctor had prescribed her. It would ensure that she remained asleep throughout the entirety of the procedure. Then, Chloe pulled out her phone and began crafting a message to her mother. She didn’t want to get into too many details, so she kept it simple:

“Hey Mom. There’s a letter to you in my drawer, the blue one. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. --C”

Having a discussion about getting her brain erased was not something that Chloe was eager to do, so she’d written the truth on a piece of scrap and stuffed it in her drawer. She scheduled the text message so that it would send at two AM. Her mom would just be finishing her shift, and the procedure would be done. By the time Joyce found out, Chloe would no longer be responsible for her actions because she wouldn’t even remember them. It was a solid plan.

It was only slightly past nine, but Chloe couldn’t think of a reason to remain awake. She tucked herself under her covers, closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep.

An hour later, the teenager had fallen deeply asleep. Two memory technicians entered the house through the unlocked backyard door and slipped upstairs. They found their blue-haired patient pleasantly snoozing beneath her blankets. One placed a helmet on the sleeping girl’s head and attached nodes to her temples while his partner booted up various softwares on her laptop. His partner pulled up pictures of the teen’s brain, scrutinized them, and then took her final notes.

The technicians began their procedure, and Chloe Price began to forget.


	6. Are we like those couples you feel sorry for?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning with the end, Chloe sees the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks. Happy new year and whatnot.
> 
> This chapter took a bit longer than usual, but I also think it's a bit longer than what I've written so far. The next chapter is also pretty much halfway done (provided that I don't totally change everything), so you should see that not too long from now.
> 
> Chapter title is a direct quote from the film on which this fic is based, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
> 
> Things are about to get trippy. Hope you have fun!

It turned out that forgetting wasn’t as simple as Chloe imagined it would be.

She was in the junkyard, in her and Rachel’s hideout. The colorful, stylized poster of LA hung from one of the cement walls, and graffiti next to the dartboard revealed that Rachel had kicked Chloe’s ass at darts several times over. Ghostly moonlight shone through the slats in the never-completed roof. Chloe felt unsettled. It could have been the shadows the moon cast on her hideout, ominous and uninviting.

Though it also could've been the fact that she could see herself.

Short blue hair stuffed beneath a navy blue beanie, wearing her white Arcadia Bay Garage shirt. She stood in front of the yellow elephant tapestry, her arms dangling by her sides, hands balled into fists.

What the… fuck? Chloe thought. She stared for a moment before looking down at her hands. They were her hands. She was herself. So who the fuck was that? She looked up again, at this other Chloe, and this time, her stomach dropped.

Across from her weird clone stood none other than Rachel Amber, sporting one of her trademark flannels and a maroon band t-shirt underneath. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her thin eyebrows came together, looking defensive.

What the _fuck_?

Chloe immediately looked back down at herself. She was clad in the same baggy t-shirt and shorts that she’d thrown on before bed.Yet when she looked up,there she stood in her garage shirt, directly across from Rachel. She looked down, saw her pajamas. She looked up, saw herself in her beanie and white shirt, talking to Rachel.

“I’m losing my fucking mind,” Chloe finally said aloud. This was the reason teary soccer moms, gruff ex-addicts showed up in classrooms full of disinterested teens, telling them not to do drugs. They’d hallucinate themselves and their ex-girlfriend and watch them in some surreal, voyeuristic kind of strangeness.

“I’ve really done it this time,” Chloe murmured, the sarcasm in her voice giving way to panic. “I… I smoked something laced. And now I can see myself. But I can also see…” Chloe glanced back down at her body. “...myself. Oh shit. Oh fuck.” Chloe unwittingly began to pace back and forth as Chloe and Rachel spoke to each other in tense, hushed tones. Chloe didn’t seem to have noticed Chloe, which was odd to Chloe. Suddenly, a thought came to her.

“Oh my God,” she whispered to herself, dazed. “Am I… _dead_? Did I fucking _die_?” Chloe fell to her knees, still unnoticed by her alter ego. “Oh my God. Those Lacuna people. They… they fucking killed me. Or they… they made me into a vegetable, and now I can see my life passing before my eyes. Oh my God.”

“Chloe, I'm sorry, all right?” came Rachel’s voice, louder than it was before. Without thinking, Chloe immediately whipped her head toward Rachel. It was strange how even when Rachel was borderline pissed, she still found relief in hearing her voice.

It was strange how, even though Chloe may or may not have been dead, she still found relief in hearing Rachel’s voice.

Suddenly, Chloe knew what this conversation was. It was the fight they’d had that night over a week ago. It was the last time she had seen Rachel. The thought of watching this made her feel sick, but she slowly rose to her feet.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Rachel continued. “It won’t happen again.”

“Can you promise that?” Alter Chloe asked with a scowl. True Chloe wished, now, that she hadn’t been so aggressive. They could’ve talked without Chloe being such an asshole.

“Chloe, _yes,_ I can promise you that it won’t happen again. We were supposed to hang, but it slipped my mind.” Rachel moved closer to punctuate her point. “It was just a _one-time fuck-up_ , babe.” Other Chloe rolled her eyes to the ceiling, shook her head. “Chloe, it’s not even that big a deal--”

“It _is_ , Rachel. And if it’s a big deal to me, then it should be to you. I mean, I’m your fucking girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“Chloe, _yes_! God, yes. I didn’t--I didn’t mean that it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Then what _did_ you mean?” Chloe asked, her volume increasing. Rachel gripped her left arm with her right hand, shuffled uncomfortably. She sighed.

“I just meant that… this is something you don’t have to worry about, babe. You’re my girlfriend, just like you said, and I’m yours. Do you understand that, Chloe Price? _I’m yours._ ”

“Then why doesn’t it feel like it?” Chloe asked, exasperated. The actress held back her urge to sigh. Chloe could be so thick sometimes. She reached out, carefully placed a hand on her girlfriend’s cheek. Chloe flinched at first, but then closed her eyes, relaxed slightly at Rachel’s touch.

“Chloe, I… I don’t know what you want to hear. That I love you? That I want to spend the rest of my life with you? Because they’re both true. I don’t know how to make you _feel_ that anymore than I already am.” Chloe opened her eyes.

“That’s the problem,” she began, taking a step back. Rachel’s hand limply fell to her side. “You shouldn’t _have_ to convince me that you love me. I should just… I should just know that you do.”

“And I shouldn’t have to prove that I love you, Chloe. _You_ should just know that I do.” Rachel stepped closer to close the distance between them. She whispered against Chloe’s lips. “You should know that I fucking love you.”

Chloe swallowed hard. True Chloe remembered how close she had been to ending the argument right there and then, to pushing Rachel against the wall and kissing her until neither of them could breathe. She wished that she could step in now and change things, but she was a ghost, and she was forgetting this memory as she relived it.

Her voice hoarse, still longing for that kiss but wanting the truth, Chloe asked, “Then where were you last night?” Rachel’s eyes widened for a fraction of a moment. Almost immediately, she regained composure, but Chloe had seen it.

“Chloe,” Rachel said slowly, but the girl across from her shook her head.

“Rachel, _don’t_ , okay? It’s more than the fact that you never showed last night. You didn’t respond to my calls or my texts. I mean, it’s one thing to cancel, but it’s another entirely to just… fucking blow me off. Where were you?” Rachel rolled her russet eyes, turned away. They’d been in this position so many times before that Chloe knew all of her defense mechanisms. Knew when she was guilty.

True Chloe knew what Rachel was going to say, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when she said it.

“I was… getting high. Really fucking high with the Vortex. I’m… sorry, Chloe.” Other Chloe’s face went blank for just a moment before giving way to anger.

“So you’d rather do blow with a bunch of rich assholes than spend time with me?”

“Chloe, no--it’s not like that at all,” Rachel protested. She grabbed her girlfriend’s arm with urgency. Real Chloe remembered how she’d thought about shaking it off, but how she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Then why?” Chloe cried. Rachel stepped closer, held both of Chloe’s hands in hers.

“Chloe,” she said softly. “My beautiful, badass, _bodacious_ Chloe.” She said the last bit with a small smile, knowing ‘bodacious’ was one of the words Chloe pretended to hate. “If I asked you to trust me, would you?”

Answering a question with another one. A very Rachel Amber move. Chloe Price was not in the mood, but she wasn’t above using Rachel’s antics against her, either.

“I don’t know. Should I trust you?” she shot back. True Chloe shut her eyes. Rachel sighed.

“Look, Chloe. I’m just dealing with some things. But I can handle it. _I can handle it._ Okay?”

“Bullshit!” Chloe cried. I’m supposed to be here for you--I _am_ here for you--whether shit’s good or bad.” Chloe turned away from Rachel and paced for a few steps, clearly heated. The model simply watched, a frown on her exquisite face. “Good _or_ bad, Rachel. I thought you would’ve figured that out by now after all the shit we’ve been through.”

“Chloe, I…” Rachel sighed again, defeated. “I know. I know, babe. But I’m…” Rachel paused, gave a bitter laugh that sent shivers down the spectating Chloe’s spine. “I’m more fucked up than you realize.” This, Chloe did not expect.

“What? If anyone here is a fuck-up, it’s me.”

“No way,” Rachel asserted, her voice sure. “You’ve been through some shit. And sure, I have, too. But you handle it so much better than I do, Chloe. Some days…” Rachel stopped again, swallowed hard. “Look, I’m _fine_ , Chloe.” she said finally. Her girlfriend threw up her hands, bewildered.

“Damn it, Rachel! You can’t just keep shutting me out like this. Aren’t we supposed to, I dunno, communicate and all that Doctor Phil bullshit?”

“Chloe,” Rachel said, and her voice was quite serious. “When I asked you before to trust me… I wasn’t asking. Not really. I _need_ you to trust me. I need you to be okay with me not telling you everything. For now, at least.”

Chloe shook her head. This whole time, she’d been too afraid of losing Rachel to speak her mind, but whatever they were doing right now wasn’t right. Chloe would lose her mind if she had to spend another night wondering where Rachel was, if she was okay, if the drugs she was taking were safe, if the people she was with were reliable…

She always worried about Rachel. She couldn’t help it. But Rachel wasn’t fucking helping, always playing their shit off or seducing her or essentially telling her to can it **.** Chloe had had enough.

“No fucking way,” she replied, every bit as serious as the young model across from her. “Rachel, the first fucking day we met, when we caught your dad at the overlook... you told me everything. When your dad told you the truth about Sera, I was right next to you. You _wanted_ me next to you… Hell, you even asked me to _find_ her for you after you couldn’t.

“And I… I told you things I’ve never told _anyone_ , about my dad, my mom, Max… Since when do we keep secrets from each other? When did we become this semi-blissful, fucked-up thing we are now?” Rachel seemed to take offense at that; she unconsciously stepped back, hazel eyes slightly narrowed.

“Since when are we ‘fucked-up’?” Rachel asked. Chloe huffed.

“Rachel, I… I _feel_ you pulling away. Whether you’re keeping your secrets and telling me to trust you or blowing me off to get high or just… _fuck_. Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Rachel shot back. “Has it ever occurred to you that we can be together and still live our own lives?” Chloe was taken aback at this. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open slightly, stupidly. “You said you feel me pulling away, didn’t you? Maybe I’m pulling away for a reason.”

“Rachel, what the fuck are you saying?” There was a hint of panic beneath the anger. “Just fucking give it to me straight. No more bullshit.”

“Fine!” Rachel cried, and the spectating Chloe flinched. “Maybe you feel me pulling away because I _am_ pulling away, Chloe. Because I just need to deal with… with what I’m dealing with alone. Just for a little while.” Rachel stepped forward, placed her hand on Chloe’s cheek again. This time, Chloe moved away. A flicker of hurt flashed across the blonde’s eyes.

“You know I love you,” she said softly. Chloe simply stood in silence, staring at the dirt, her hands clenched into fists. True Chloe knew what she said next, and she hated herself for it.

“No,” Other Chloe said finally, “I _don’t_ know that you love me. You blow me off, you never explain anything, you act like I’m crazy for caring about you. I’m pretty sure that’s not fucking love.”

“Chloe--” Rachel began, but Chloe wouldn’t let her finish.

“You want to deal with your mystery shit all on your own? Well, fine by me. Call me when you feel like having a girlfriend who actually gives a shit about you.” Chloe turned to walk away, but Rachel grabbed her, again with that urgency, and called her name. Chloe stopped to look at her, tears already forming in cold blue eyes.

“Chloe,” she whispered, “I _do_ want you.”

“Only when there isn’t anything--or any _one_ \--better to do.”

Rachel recoiled as though she’d been slapped. Part of Chloe immediately regretted saying what she had. The other part of her, the part felt abandoned and enjoyed Rachel being upset, was triumphant. Chloe didn't believe that Rachel would ever actually be unfaithful to her, but evoking the response she had was all too satisfying.

“Are you serious right now?”Rachel asked. Her voice was low, dangerous. Chloe knew that she should’ve said something. Instead she stood there matching Rachel’s gaze.

The lack of a response was all Rachel needed.

“Fuck you,” she spat. She turned on her heel and disappeared from their hideout.

Chloe watched after her for a long moment. She knew she should’ve chased her, told her she didn’t mean it, started groveling. But she was tired of fighting. Plus, Rachel was the one who had fucked up by blowing her off, and she still somehow managed to make Chloe the villain. Well, fuck her.

Chloe swiped up a nearby beer bottle and threw it at the wall with a scream. It collided with the sharp ring of glass on cement before shattering into countless pieces. Chloe thought that it might have been satisfying somehow to destroy something, but it wasn’t. Not at all. Drained, she dropped onto the nearest bench and let her head fall into her hands.

Spectator Chloe had watched all the while, her jaw clenched tight and hands balled up at her sides. Living through this once had been miserable enough. To see it happen again…

“Enough,” she whispered, feeling just as worn as her counterpart.

Right on cue, everything around Chloe slowly began to fade. As the memory came to an end, so did her surroundings; the walls of the hideout, the beer bottles and the photographs, even her past self became increasingly transparent until they were no more.

She was forgetting.

Chloe whipped around, alone in a vast, white space devoid of any other people or objects. For just a moment, her blood turned cold.

Was that it? Was she fated to remain trapped in the ashes of an unpleasant memory?

Before she had much time to dwell on her sudden terror, the next memory began to slowly fade in; objects slowly came into being and filled with color. Chloe would have felt relieved if she weren’t so on edge; that last memory had been hard enough to watch. She didn’t know what would come next, and she wasn’t sure that she was equipped to handle it.

Pine trees began to slowly shimmer into existence around the blue-haired teen. Chloe whirled around, trying to understand her surroundings before the memory began. The sun was beginning to set, just like the last time she had visited the lighthouse, and everything became drenched in gold. The distant sound of ocean waves tumbling onto the sand filtered into her ears, and she could smell brine. That was enough to clue her into the fact that she was at the lighthouse.

Sure enough, a wooden bench with RA+CP scratched on it faded into place right in front of her. On the bench sat Other Chloe, still sporting her beanie but clad in Rachel’s ink blot shirt. She held a joint in one hand. Rachel was nestled into her, of course, tracing the the lines on the inside of Chloe’s free hand.

Lazily, almost without thinking, Chloe handed Rachel her joint. The blonde considered it for a moment.

“I was thinking maybe something a little different tonight,” she said, the beginning of a wicked smile coming across her lips. Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” she asked. “You get your hands on some more booze? Hopefully the good stuff this time. That shit from last weekend gave me the worst headache of my life.” Rachel chuckled and shook her head.

“I figured we could try something with a little more bite.” Without further ado, the actress pulled a small baggie from the pocket of her long-sleeve denim shirt. Inside it were four or five white tablets. Both of Chloe’s eyebrows raised inadvertently, genuinely surprised this time.

“And what is this?”

“Oxi,” Rachel replied, grinning like an idiot.

“Huh.” 

Chloe brought the joint back to her lips. She knew Rachel must have done more than weed, but she’d never actually seen her do it. The Vortex must have introduced her to some shit; some nights after a Vortex get-together, Rachel would sneak into Chloe’s room, sillier, looser, and speaking a mile a minute. Chloe had a hard time following her trains of thought. These nights seemed to be getting closer together; Rachel was using more often, but Chloe couldn’t fathom why.

Rachel had also never mentioned her fondness for other drugs before, let alone pulled them out and offered them to Chloe. Even though she loved the weight of Rachel against her, loved her scent and the sight of the beach and just being here, something about the whole situation felt off.

“So? Up for an adventure?” Rachel coaxed, wagging her eyebrows. Chloe chuckled, though it was a little forced.

“Nah, I’m good. You have fun in Wonderland with all the playing cards and the fucking rabbits.”

“Suit yourself,” Rachel said with a shrug and a smile. “Besides, there’ll be more where that came from if you change your mind.” This information also surprised Chloe.

“Where do you get that shit from, anyway?”

“Vortex party favors.” Chloe wanted her to elaborate, but she didn’t. She tried another angle.

“You’ve been going pretty damn hard with the Vortex lately.” Rachel nodded.

“It’s good stress relief. Some of the people are major dicks, as you know--”

“Queen Dick herself, Victoria Chase, first of her name,” Chloe added. Rachel smiled.

“Yes, like Victoria, Queen Dick, and her cronies. But they don’t give me much of a hard time. They’re too busy kissing my ass.”

“Ooh. Is that something you’re into?” Chloe asked with a sly grin. Rachel rolled her eyes and shoved the girl sitting beside her. They both laughed.

“Not when Victoria’s the one doing it. But some of the people are pretty chill, and they know how to have a good time.”

“Yeah? Just… make sure you’re careful with that shit.” Rachel raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Chloe held her breath, considering. She didn’t want to say anything that might offend the girl cuddled up next to her.

“Just, uhh, you know. Make sure you really trust who you’re getting them from and shit. I mean, free drugs are awesome, but not if you’re going to end up in the hospital.” Rachel laughed.

“I’ve been to the hospital, Chlo. Remember?” she asked, raising her left arm. Chloe’s stomach knotted.

“Yeah. I wish you wouldn’t remind me.” Because the truth was, Chloe rarely ever forgot, forgot that her angel almost died right in front of her eyes. All because she wasn’t brave enough to step in and help her. She still resented herself for it, among many other things.

“I’m just saying. Going to the hospital isn’t the worst of things,” Rachel responded in true Rachel Amber nonchalance. Chloe couldn’t help but frown.

“I’m serious, Rach,” she said softly. “I can’t lose you, okay? And definitely not because you feel like getting a buzz a few beers can’t give you.” Rachel’s eyes narrowed, though Past Chloe couldn’t see it. The spectating Chloe could, and because she’d lived this once before, she knew Rachel was miffed. Because she’d lived through this moment and more, she could see that their relationship was fraying, slowly splitting at the seams. She didn't see it then, but she knew it now.

She hated it.

“Wow, Chlo. Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Rachel replied, clearly irritated. Chloe turned to Rachel, surprised, but Rachel turned away toward the lighthouse.

“What?”

“You seem to think I’m a total fucking idiot and that I’m going to overdose.”

“What? Rachel, no. It’s not _you_ I don’t trust, it’s _them_. Those Vortex shits, they don’t give a fuck where they get their stuff as long as they can get it. They’re strung the fuck out and they’re not choosey. Trust me.” Rachel shook her head, disbelieving.

“Some of those ‘Vortex shits’ are actually my friends, you know? I’d appreciate it if maybe you didn’t shit on them all the time. And we’re _all_ strung out, Chloe. When’s the last time you went a day without sparking a blunt?”

“Weed is different, and you know that,” Chloe quickly refuted the actress. “And how many of your ‘Vortex friends’ actually care about you? They all just want a chance to say they talked to the Great Rachel Amber." Rachel visibly bristled at this. True Chloe slapped her forehead. God was she a fucking idiot.

“Wow. So you’re saying that all of my friends are out to use me? Chloe Price is at it again with distrusting the fuck out of everyone and everything.”

“ _Fuck_ , Rachel. That’s not what I’m trying to say, and you know it. I’m just saying… be careful, okay? Because I worry about you. I worry about you all the fucking time, and I can’t stop it.”

“Well, you don’t _need_ to worry about me. I’m fine, Chloe.”

“ _Jesus_. Look at me, Rachel,” Chloe urged. After a moment, Rachel gradually turned her focus from the lighthouse to the blue-haired girl beside her. Chloe took her hand in hers. “I can’t help but worry about you, Rach. You’re…” Chloe swallowed hard. “You’re everything to me.”

Rachel seemed to soften at this; she lost the tension in her jaw, and the expression in her eyes became gentle. She sighed.

“God, I know. I’m… sorry I’m being so difficult. It’s just… hard, sometimes. You know?” Chloe nods.

“I know. But I’m here for you. I always will be.” Rachel leaned in toward her girlfriend, placed a soft kiss on her lips. She lingered there for a moment before slowly pulling away. Chloe wished she would come back.

“I know. I’m really fucking lucky to be with you, Chloe Price.” Rachel stuffed the baggie back into her pocket, untouched, and then she placed a hand on the other teen’s cheek. “I love you.” Rachel said gently. Chloe couldn’t help but smile.

“I know.” Her companion playfully shoved her again, a smile also spreading across her face.

“You asshole,” she murmured, leaning in closer yet again.

“ _Your_ asshole,” Chloe corrected, and then she closed the distance between them.

True Chloe’s heart physically ached in her chest. It appeared that there wasn’t much of the memory left, though, as it slowly began to fade into darkness. Chloe fell to her knees yet again and clutched at her head.

Forgetting was supposed to be easy, but this was fucking _torture._ She didn’t want to keep living through all of these fucked-up and sugar sweet moments. She didn’t want to see her and Rachel at their best, nor the signs that pointed at their  relationship falling the fuck apart. She didn’t want to see how stupidly in love they were and how generally stupid and insensitive they had been. She just wanted everything to stop.

But Chloe was just at the beginning of the end. There were plenty more things to forget, and she knew it. The blue-haired teen swallowed hard, banged her fist on the solid darkness beneath her.

“I’m ready,” she shouted at no one in particular, “so fucking… bring the pain.”

The next memory began to form.


	7. Like we were already lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe continues to work her way through the memories of the love of her life and finds that she isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet again to dive into the mind of one Chloe Price! Thanks for the comments and kudos :] I actually necromanced my tumblr from the dead just to share this piece since I quite like it. If you enjoy this story, please share it with your equally LIS BTS-obsessed friends! 
> 
> Upping the rating from teen to mature based on some implied ~shennanigans~ and innuendos. Nothing too extreme, but just want to cover my bases. 
> 
> Chapter title also from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Okay, enough rambles! Enjoy!

Despite the slight chilliness of that spring day, Chloe left her window open that night. She expected company.

It was half past midnight when the actress finally shimmied her way in. She was less graceful (and quiet) than usual, banging her elbow on the window frame, cursing, and then bursting into a fit of giggles. Chloe immediately sat upright in her bed, cast her girlfriend a stern look.

“Rach,” she hissed, “if you’re going to break into my house, can you do it quietly, please?” David was asleep, and Chloe wanted to keep it that way. Rachel giggled again, decided to approach the window feet-first instead. This time, she was able to slip in; she landed somewhat clumsily, narrowly missing Chloe’s desk.

“Oops,” Rachel said with another laugh, trying to regain her balance. “My bad. It’s not breaking in if you invited me, though.” Rachel laughed again. Chloe wanted to be mad, but her girlfriend was too adorable. She rolled her eyes and beckoned Rachel to join in her bed. Rachel kicked off her sneakers and happily complied, jumping into Chloe’s arms with a delighted yelp. It was loud, but with Rachel against her, with her, Chloe didn’t care if they were loud. They both laughed as they wound their arms around each other.

“How was your party?” Chloe asked, running a thumb along the side of Rachel’s face. Rachel purred at the pleasant contact, the warmth. She felt cold, despite the pleather jacket Chloe had lent her to “complete her look”.

“Fun.” Her heavy-lidded eyes were half closed, but a content smile pulled at her lips.

“Anything interesting to report?”

“I danced _so_ much.” This much was obvious. Rachel loved to dance, to Chloe’s slight chagrin. She didn’t hate it when Rachel got her to loosen up enough to forget that anyone, everyone else was watching (which of course they were, because she was dancing with Rachel Amber). Rachel had invited Chloe to the party, of course, but she’d declined. This party was one of the shitty school-sponsored ones on Blackwell grounds, and Chloe felt no desire whatsoever to return to her roots.

“That much we know. What else did you get up?” Rachel rolled onto to her back and dreamily looked up at the ceiling. Chloe kept an arm wrapped around her.

“I saw Logan try to throw Victoria into the pool.”

“Oh my God. Did he do it?” Rachel shook her head, chuckled.

“No. He picked up Victoria, bridal style, and carried her over to the edge. She was screaming her head off the whole time: ‘Put me down, you piece of shit!’ and ‘This is Armani!’. ‘Your head’s as empty as that football you throw around all day!’” She and Chloe both laughed. “Fuck, it was so funny. I wish you would’ve been there.”

“Me too, now that you say that. It’s a shame she didn’t actually get wet, though.”

“Mmm…” Rachel hummed. Chloe arched an eyebrow.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked. Rachel turned her attention to the blue-haired girl lying next to her.

“Getting wet,” she said with the coy smile Chloe had come to love. Chloe couldn’t help but roll her eyes, but she also couldn’t stop herself from rolling on top of the model. Rachel’s hands cupped Chloe’s face, and Chloe held onto Rachel’s sides. They kissed for quite a while, sighing between each other’s lips, only pulling away when of them needed to breathe. Chloe was about to reach for Rachel’s shirt when Rachel lazily rolled away. Chloe pouted for a moment; she wanted more, but she also wasn’t in a particular rush. She propped herself up on one elbow and watched the girl beside her.

“I’m faded as fuck right now,” Rachel announced to no one in particular.

“I figured as much,” Chloe replied with a laugh. “Need a snack?”

“ _You’re_ a snack,” Rachel mumbled, turning over again to kiss Chloe. She missed her mouth, landing on the corner of her lip and her cheek, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I’m gonna get you some water,” Chloe said with a chuckle. She pulled herself away from Rachel, who hummed quietly to herself, and made her way downstairs.

Chloe crept quietly down the stairs, smiling to herself as she thought about the girl in her room. As much as she disliked the Vortex, she was glad that the party had put Rachel into good spirits; she’d been a bit moody lately. It wasn’t particularly unusual for the teenager to go from one emotion to the next with little transition in between, but recently, it’d been a bit more drastic. It was kind of like when they’d first met, when they’d seen her father cheating at the overlook, and Rachel had whiplashed between bubbly and playful to closed-off and irritable. Chloe knew that whatever had been bugging must have been relatively significant if it inspired these changes, but she didn’t pry--she knew that Rachel would tell her about whatever was bothering her when the time was right. All she had to do for now was keep supporting her, no matter what.

Chloe made her way back up the stairs. In one hand, she held a glass of water. In the other, she held a box of Cheez-Its and a pack of Oreos in the crook of her arm. Salty and sweet, the perfect combination. Just like her and Rachel.

“I am back with munchies of all varieties,” Chloe announced as she re-entered her room. She closed the door behind her with her foot, and then she almost dropped everything she was holding.

“Thought of something better to do,” Rachel said with a wolfish grin. It turned out that in the three minutes that Chloe had been gone, Rachel had discarded all her clothing. She was lying on top of the of the covers with her head propped up in one hand, watching Chloe with a lazy curiosity.

“Uhh, yeah, fuck the Cheez-Its.” Chloe only took care with the glass of water, which she placed on her blue dresser. Everything else, she unceremoniously dropped on the floor.

“Do I really have to fucking watch this?” True Chloe asked aloud. Of course, there was no reply. Past Chloe made her way to the bed, into Rachel's eagerly outstretched arms. True Chloe quickly threw her hands over her eyes and half-watched the scene through the slats between her fingers. Sure, it was herself that she was watching, but it still felt really fucking weird to see herself get laid.

“This can’t be fucking happening,” she murmured under her breath. But it was. She sprinted to the door, only to find that the knob wouldn’t turn. Out of desperation, and as a particularly provocative noise escaped one of them, Chloe ran for the window. She stretched her arm into the open air, only for it to suddenly hit an invisible wall.

“Oh, fuck,” Chloe muttered. She shook her head. “Well, if I’m going to be stuck here, I am _definitely_ not listening to myself smash.” She propped open the laptop on her desk, located one of her favorite playlists, and turned it up as high as it would go while her past self and her then-girlfriend thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.

It was weird.

After much too long, Past Chloe and Rachel settled down, nestled in one another’s arms. True Chloe turned down the volume and watched her alternate self trace indiscreet patterns along her loved one’s arm. They were lying on their sides, passing a blunt wordlessly between each other, caught up in their bliss. True Chloe’s jaw clenched. As weird as the previous scene had been, it made her uncomfortable more than anything. Not like watching this. This hurt.

“God, I wanna get outta here so bad,” Rachel suddenly confessed. Past Chloe ran her fingers through Rachel’s silky hair.

“We will, babe," she replied, her voice absolutely certain. She paused for a moment before asking, "What makes you say that?" Rachel sighed.

“You’re the only good thing I have here. Everything else is just… shit. I wish we could leave it all behind and never look back.” Chloe couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her and Rachel coasting along the highway in her beat-up truck.

“Are we still down for L.A.?” she asked.

“Definitely. We’ll ride the ferris wheel at night and watch the city sparkle and come to life beneath us. Then we’ll get super high, on some real Cali kush, and we'll stop by every single food truck we can, until our stomachs are about to burst. Then we'll sit on the pier, skipping stones. I'll be way better at it than you, but you’ll still have fun."

"Hey," Chloe said, giving her girlfriend a light shove. They both giggled.

"We'll have the time of our fucking lives, Chloe,” Rachel said with a pleasant sigh. She grabbed one of Chloe's hands with her own, entwined their fingers. "Everything will be okay as soon as we get out of here.”

“Hey,” Chloe said softly, “there’s no rush. We’ll get there someday. All we’ve got to do is make some more money. We already have transportation, clothes, all of that shit. I’ll… start working, maybe, and then once you graduate from Blackhell, we can get the fuck out of this place.” Rachel hummed pleasantly.

“I just wanna be yours,” she whispered. She sounded almost… frightened. Maybe Chloe was imagining it.

“You already are,” Chloe replied gently. “My angel, now and forever.” Rachel snuggled up closer to her side.

“Good,” she whispered again, and without a further word, she was asleep. Chloe smiled and kissed her forehead.

“I hate this shit,” True Chloe said aloud, kicking over her trash can. There was a dull thump, and the contents of the bin spilled onto the floor, but neither Past Chloe nor Rachel noticed. Of course.

“Mierzwiak you bastard, why the _fuck_ are you making me watch this? Huh?” Chloe screamed up to the ceiling. Again, no answer. Chloe banged her fists on the ground. She thought she’d be ready for whatever painful memories were to come, but it was only getting harder with each moment she relived.

She began to quietly cry to herself, and her bedroom slowly shifted into a low-lit room full of booths with red upholstery. The aroma of bacon wafted through the air. A teenage boy clad in a white apron, nervous-looking and with his fair share of acne, passed by with a plate of french toast. His name tag bore the name Charles.

The Two Whales. Of course.

This time, Alter Chloe sat in one of the booths, Rachel squeezed in beside her. Chloe remembered that she had objected, saying it was embarrassing and unnecessary to sit on the same side of the table. That was probably the reason Rachel had insisted on doing it; she’d simply winked and said, “I just can’t stay away from you, babe.” Chloe rolled her eyes, but truthfully, Rachel’s words stoked a small warmth inside her. Chloe would never admit this aloud, of course, but she was sure that Rachel already knew anyway.

True Chloe remembered this visit to the diner distinctly because she remembered how disappointed she’d felt by the end of it. This trip took place about three months before The Erasing and, yeah, it was going to suck.

“Look, as much as I’m sure my mom _loves_ footing the bill for me every time I’m here, I highly doubt Chuckie boy over here is just as eager to do the same,” Alter Chloe began, nodding her head at the boy in the apron. He must have gone to the normal Arcadia Bay high school for the non-pretentious because even Rachel didn’t recognize him. Chloe didn’t know him, either, despite spending an inordinate amount of her time at this diner. Must have been a new recruit.

“We should go some place else,” Chloe continued. Rachel clicked her tongue at the suggestion.

“No way. Where else am I going to get my late night cheesy hash browns?” Chloe snorted.

“Literally anywhere else,” she dryly replied, and Rachel vigorously shook her head.

“Only The Two Whales will do. Besides, it’s on me.” Chloe hesitated for a moment, but she couldn’t find a reason to complain.

“Come to mama, bacon pancakes.” Rachel smiled, pressed a gentle kiss against Chloe’s cheek. Unbeknownst to the couple, Charles stood bashfully by their booth awaiting for a good moment to ask for their order.

“Oh my,” Rachel said when she noticed the uncomfortable young man next to her. She was putting on the theatrics. “I’m sorry; we didn’t see you there.” Rachel turned to Chloe. She also slipped a hand onto her thigh beneath the table, not that Chloe minded. “Have you decided what you want to eat yet, babe?”

“Well. Are _you_ on the menu?” Chloe asked with a smirk. Rachel swatted at her with her other hand.

“Chloe, behave.” Rachel wasn’t actually chiding her, but Charles had turned as red as the ketchup on the table.

“Right, okay, behaving. I’ll have the bacon pancakes and some orange juice.” Charles nodded quickly, his curly brown hair frantically bouncing to and fro. He patted his apron and his pockets, seemingly attempting to find something.

“I’ll have an order of hash browns with cheese and… a bloody Mary,” Rachel added thoughtfully. Charles’s eyes widened slightly.

“We don’t… we don’t serve alcohol here,” he said quickly. “Sorry,” he added. Chloe smirked.

“Oh, is that right? Well, I’m only seventeen, so... oops,” Rachel said with a grin. “I’ll have a coke.”

“Cheesy hash browns with coke?” Chloe asked, less than thrilled with her girlfriend’s order.

“Hey, what can I say? I’m a woman of refined taste,” she replied, still smiling. Chloe rolled her blue eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile back. As she did, she realized that Charles was still there, patting himself all over.

“Uhh. Do you need something?” Chloe asked with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

Charles’s face was still red as he admitted, “I, err, lost--misplaced my pen.” Chloe snorted.

“Found it for ya, big guy,” Rachel said. She leaned forward and pulled the pen from the pocket of his collared shirt. “Now make sure you write all that down,” Rachel said with a wink. Charles looked as though he might erupt. He simply nodded before scampering off behind the counter. Rachel turned to her girlfriend, and the two of them burst into laughter.

“You’re _so_ fucking rude,” Chloe said, the laughter still on her lips.

“Me? Oh my God, did you not hear yourself earlier? ‘Are _you_ on the menu?’ You big-ass dork.” Chloe playfully bumped her shoulder against Rachel’s.

“Can’t help it. You’re the most delicious thing here.”

“Wow. That was cheesier than my hash browns.”

“My wit knows no bounds,” Chloe said with a smirk. Rachel laughed, her angelic sound that was uniquely her, just like everything else about her was.

The next fifteen minutes passed in the same fashion, Rachel and Chloe with their heads together, speaking softly as Rachel subconsciously ran her hand along Chloe’s thigh. True Chloe sat on the counter, unnoticed by anyone, feeling knots in her stomach. The moment seemed perfect, the two of them snuggled into each other, talking about whatever popped into their minds. She knew, though, that Rachel would get a text soon that would shatter the illusion.

Sure enough, Rachel’s phone chirped just a moment later. She picked it up, and her eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s up?” Past Chloe asked, playfully bumping into her girlfriend again.

“It’s Frank.” Chloe instinctively huffed an ‘ugh’.

“Why’s he texting you? He's your dealer. Shouldn't it be the other way around?” Rachel shrugged.

“I don’t know. He said he has this new shit he wants me to try, straight from Cali. It’s called ‘weed whacker’ apparently.”

“Creative,” Chloe replied with a snort. Rachel giggled.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Rachel paused. “I might meet up with him, though,” she added a little hesitantly, and Chloe quirked an eyebrow.

“Really?” Rachel shrugged.

“I mean, it’s free weed, and he’s hella talking it up. Why not?” Technically, Rachel had a point, but Chloe always hated the idea of Rachel hanging out with Frank. Sure, he’d saved their asses a couple times, but things between them had definitely changed since then. He’d become crotchety and kind of unpredictable. Chloe was sure that a big part of it had to do with the fact that she owed him a semi-considerable amount of money, but Frank had dealt to her so many times that he should’ve known better. It was his own fault, really.

Frank certainly had more of a soft spot for Rachel, like every other citizen in Arcadia Bay, but it creeped Chloe out. A man his age, a murdering drug dealer at that, hanging out with Rachel. It was just weird.

Rachel could see the gears turning in Chloe’s head. “Something wrong?” she asked, already sensing Chloe’s worry. Chloe considered for a moment.

“Don’t you find it kinda… weird that a grown-ass dude wants to smoke with you in his trailer?” she asked finally. Rachel laughed.

“Oh, definitely. It’s hella weird. But I don’t think Frank is a bad guy, you know?”

“I mean, I guess,” Chloe replied, but she still felt uneasy. “I guess it’s just weird because he hates me so much, and he knows I’m always hanging out with you.” Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Oh please. Who could ever hate you?” Rachel asked, taking one of Chloe’s hands into her own. Chloe snorted.

“Uhh, I dunno. How about the entire town of Arcadia Bay?” Rachel nudged her gently. “You should be okay with Frank, though,” Chloe added after some consideration. “He likes you.” Because who wouldn’t like Rachel, honestly?

Rachel opened her mouth to speak when Charles came up with their plates.

“Uhm, bacon pancakes and… orange juice,” he mumbled, setting one plate and glass in front of Chloe, “and uhh, coke and hash browns with cheese.”

“Where’s my toast?” Chloe asked rather pointedly. All breakfast items were supposed to come with a complimentary side of toast.

“I also seem to be lacking toast,” Rachel commented.

“Ah, shit--I mean, sorry, sorry. I’ll grab that right away.” As the waiter hustled away, the girls exchanged looks before exploding into laughter yet again. They ate their meals in amiable silence, only speaking up to comment on others around the diner or making bets on how long they thought Chuck would last.

Chloe finished her last scrap of pancake, and Rachel got to her feet.

“Going somewhere?” Chloe asked as Rachel rummaged through her bag.

“Frank’s, remember? He’s parked outside,” Rachel responded, cocking her head toward the window. She placed a couple bills on the table. “Take care of the check for me, won’t you?” Rachel leaned over and placed another kiss on Chloe’s cheek, but Chloe still felt unsettled.

“You're going to dine and dash on me?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“It’s hardly dining and dashing if I'm paying! Though I will admit to the dashing part. Frank’s waiting for me.” Chloe folder her arms across her chest, unintentionally being defensive.

“Again, I’m just throwing it out there how weird this is. Like, he’s old, and he’s your dealer, Rach.”

“Yeah, I know. But he’s really not all bad.” Chloe made a point of looking away from her companion. Rachel picked up on the movement, the implications behind it. “There's nothing to worry about, Chlo,” she added, her voice soft. “He’s like a big, sad puppy with no one to play with. I’ll keep him company for a bit, and he’ll give me weed. It’s a fair trade.”

“I can get you high,” Chloe muttered. Rachel smiled. Chloe was adorable when she was jealous.

“Yes, you can. But do you have _weed whacker_?” Rachel asked with a mischievous grin. Chloe shook her head again, willing herself not to be pulled in by Rachel’s silliness and charm.

“No,” Chloe finally admitted, “but I have a sick truck and a kick-ass music collection. Not to mention the fact that I’m fucking wonderful company.” Rachel laughed.

“I can’t deny any of those things. But I really do have to get going.” The blue-haired girl hadn’t anticipated her girlfriend splitting her night between her and Frank, but it was only one night. Nothing to get too bent out of shape about. Besides, they’d see each other again soon.

“I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow afternoon?” Chloe offered. Rachel nodded.

“Absolutely,” she responded with a grin. “I have drama practice, but after that?”

“Sure.” Chloe shook her head and continued, “Shit, I can’t wait for this school year to be over.” Rachel tilted her head slightly, gave Chloe an inquisitive look.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t even in school.”

“Yeah, but you are, and I’m getting tired of sharing you with everyone.” Rachel smiled and gave Chloe another kiss. Chloe kept her lips moving against Rachel’s, trying to extend it, but Rachel pulled away.

“Fuck,” she sighed. “I’ve _really_ gotta get going, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Chloe nodded.

“Hasta la vista.” She tried her best to sound unaffected even though she already missed the blonde. Rachel gave her a final wink and a wave goodbye. Then she was gone.

The scenery around Chloe began to dissipate yet again. That memory was one of the better ones so far, but she remembered the ache in her chest when Rachel said she was going to see Frank. It wasn’t a big deal, obviously, but… it still hurt somehow that Rachel was willing to cut their night short to see him. He was everything Chloe wasn’t. Why did Rachel want to spend time with him, and why did it bother her so much?

“When did I get so damn clingy?” True Chloe bitterly wondered to herself. Maybe she had known even then that she was going to lose Rachel. She’d always thought their relationship was too good to be real, that one day, Rachel would find someone a thousand times better than her, and they’d take off into the sunset. It sure as fuck wasn’t Frank, she knew that much. But it was only a matter of time…

Despite thinking that, Chloe still wanted Rachel with her. What she wouldn’t give to feel her, drown in her scent, hear that low, seductive chuckle of hers when a questionable idea popped into her head. If only Rachel could be here, too, reliving all this shit with her.

“Your wish is my command,” came a voice from beside her.

Chloe whipped to the side, and there she stood. Staring directly at her, as she never had in any of the previous memories.

“Well? Aren’t you glad to see me?” she asked, a grin lighting up her beautiful face.

Yet again, Chloe fell to her knees.

Rachel.


	8. Happy with a secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe relives one of the most important relationships in her life as it falls apart, but now the love of her life is by her side. Should be easy.
> 
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! My goodness. This chapter is a little overdue. I've been aiming to have an update once a week--not necessarily every seven days, but having something out one day each week. So technically I'm still kinda doing okay. I do apologize for the delay, though.
> 
> Most of all, thanks for the feedback I've gotten! This last chapter really spiked in comments and bookmarks and kudos. I am not sure why? But I am grateful. Share with your friends if you like :)
> 
> Okay now read the thingy!!

This couldn’t have been real.

Everything that happened before, everything that happened now… it was all inside of Chloe’s head. And yet, there she stood, a beacon in her otherwise pitch-black surroundings. The usual red flannel, the ripped skinny jeans that clung to all the right places, the ever-present turquoise feather dangling from her left ear.

Chloe took an uncertain step forward, stumbling into the overwhelming dark. She probably looked stupid, but she didn't care. If it really was her, if it truly were Rachel…

Unable to contain herself any longer, the blue-haired girl sprinted forward. The other girl beamed, arms eagerly outstretched. Chloe found herself in those arms, her own wrapped tightly around the other girl’s waist. Rachel giggled and nuzzled closer and god, no one else had that laugh and yes, this was Rachel. Her Rachel. Chloe stooped down to bury her face against Rachel’s neck, and it _felt_ like her. Soft and warm with the scent of jasmine.

“Hey Price,” Rachel murmured into Chloe’s ear. Chloe could hear the gentle smile on her face in her voice. It made her throat go dry, her chest contract, and her eyes brim with tears.

“It’s all right,” Rachel said softly. She combed her fingers through Chloe’s short blue hair, attempting to soothe her. The other arm stayed firmly around her guardian angel. Chloe managed to pull away from Rachel long enough to look her in the face. She wanted to run her fingertips along her cheek, feel that she was really there, but she thought that if she let her go, she might disappear.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe finally asked, her voice thick. She shook her head, realizing that she wanted to ask something else entirely. “I mean, how can you see me?” Rachel smiled slightly, placed a hand on Chloe’s cheek like she’d been unable to earlier.

As Rachel opened her mouth to respond, the scene around them began to rebuild. Chloe, still keeping her arms locked around Rachel, tilted her head to get a look around. The place they were now was dim and damp with curved walls. She could smell sea salt. Her past self and past Rachel sat on the ground, leaning into the wall and each other.

“The lighthouse,” Current Rachel said suddenly, a warm, small smile gracing her features.

“The night we broke in,” Chloe said softly. It was mostly to herself, but Rachel nodded, still smiling.

“Your birthday weekend. God, that was so much fun.”

“It was,” Chloe mumbled, somewhat distracted. She was watching their past counterparts; Past Rachel held up her phone, and the light it emitted cast their faces in a soft white glow. Just as in previous memories, neither of the past illusions seemed privy to the presence of the present ones. She knew that at that moment, Rachel was showing her ideas for a potential tattoo.

“This was after you got me my tattoo,” Chloe said again, her voice still soft. Rachel nodded. She took a half step back, wordlessly telling Chloe that, if it was all right with her, she wanted to watch their alternates, too. Chloe immediately understood and loosened her hold on Rachel, though she quickly reached for her hand instead. Rachel smiled as she twined their fingers.

“God, yeah, that tattoo,” Rachel began, reminiscent. “I knew it would be a pricey birthday gift, but _damn_ was it worth it. You looked _so_ fucking good,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It was true. Past Chloe’s arm was still swollen and red where the ink had gone into her skin, but even then it suited her. Rachel nudged her with her shoulder, and Chloe turned back to her.

“You were trying to help me figure out what tattoo to get,” Rachel said, “so I could look as badass as you.” Chloe scoffed.

“You were already badass. You didn’t need a tattoo to show it.”

Past Chloe suddenly piped up from their spot on the lighthouse floor. The current counterparts turned to look at her.

“Rachel, you can’t be serious. A Chinese character?”

“Yeah!” Past Rachel enthusiastically replied. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

“Uhh, do you _want_ to look like a basic bitch for the rest of your life? You don’t even know what it says.”

“Who cares what it says,” Rachel replied with a roll of her eyes, “it looks fuckin’ cool.” Chloe threw up her free arm, the newly tattooed one, with disbelief.

“I was thinking,” Rachel added, “that it’d look even cooler if I got it on the small of my back. Don’t you think?”

Chloe’s eyes nearly dropped out of her head.

“A _tramp stamp_?” she asked, utterly bewildered. It was only when she saw the massive grin on Rachel’s face that she knew that yeah, Rachel was totally fucking with her.

“Oh my god,” Chloe said, giving her girlfriend a light shove on the shoulder. “You are the fucking worst.” Rachel laughed her delightful wind chime of a giggle.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” Current Rachel said, laughing in spite of herself. True Chloe tried to glare, but upon seeing Rachel’s glee, her smolder quickly transformed into a smile.

“I can’t believe you _joked_ about that. I thought you had better taste than to make a wisecrack about getting a tramp stamp.”

“But the look on your face. Should I say it?” Rachel asked, mischief pulling at the corner of her lips, glimmering in her eyes.

“Say what?”

“It was _Priceless,_ ” Rachel said, unable to contain herself. Chloe groaned, much to Rachel’s delight.

“Okay,” Past Chloe’s voice came again, “this time you’re really shitting me.”

“Why?” Past Rachel asked, sounding the tiniest bit offended.

“A butterfly? Honestly?”

“Yeah! They’re called blue morphos, and they’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Okay, well at this rate, you may as well get your Chinese character and hope it doesn’t say ‘I eat ass.’ Especially because at this particular point in our relationship, that may or may not be true?”

“Chloe!” Rachel said, swatting at her arm.

"Kidding, kidding."

They both laughed.

“Honestly, what would it take to satisfy you?” Rachel asked with a shake of her head.

“Well. I can think of a thing or two,” she replied with a sly smile. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Perv. Seriously, help me pick something out.” The two went back to poring over her phone, pointing out designs they particularly liked or thought were heinous.

“You gave me so much shit over my tattoo,” Current Rachel said. Despite the memory, her tone was light, her voice warm. Nostalgic.

“Well,” Chloe began, “you could always count on me for honest feedback.” Rachel nodded with a gentle smile.

“I could always count on you for anything,” she said softly, her voice just above a whisper. Chloe looked down at her ex-girlfriend, or at least her apparition, and she couldn’t hold herself back. She leaned into Rachel, overcome by a force far greater than her own will--not that she wanted to stop. Their lips met. Rachel smiled into the kiss, cupped Chloe’s face in both of her hands, and Chloe’s arms found their way back around Rachel’s hips.

It was even better than she remembered.

Maybe she could stay in this moment forever. If this was all in her head, why not? Instead of wasting time with the painful past, she could make a new present, right there and then with Rachel.

Of course, that would have been too easy. Eventually, Rachel pulled away with a sigh. Chloe immediately leaned back in, wanting more, but Rachel turned her face so Chloe only made contact with her cheek.

“What gives?” Chloe huffed.

“We need to talk,” came Rachel’s response. Her eyes were dead-set on Chloe’s, and she actually looked serious.

“Don’t wanna,” Chloe murmured, moving to place kisses along Rachel’s jawline instead. Rachel didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help but sigh.

“Wait, Chloe,” she attempted to interject. “Seriously. Don’t you want to know why--mm… Hey, stop.” Chloe stopped her barrage just long enough for Rachel to take a step back, run a hand through her hair.

“Thank you,” she said, more than a little breathless.

Chloe scrutinized the girl beside her. “It’s really fucking hard for me to keep my hands to myself right now, so… this shit better be good, whatever it is.” Rachel chuckled.

“I’m absolutely flattered, babe. I’m sorry to say that I’m not here to sex you up.”

“Then why are we even here?” Chloe groaned, and Rachel chuckled again.

“Seriously, Chlo.” She took another step back, and then in true Rachel Amber fashion, twirled in the middle of the dark, damp lighthouse. She slipped back over to Chloe, giggling. “I’m here because you wanted me to be,” she said simply. Chloe raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I wanted you to be?” she repeated, not quite understanding. Rachel nodded.

“Just a few moments ago. You were thinking you'd give almost anything to see me here. So… here I am.” Rachel smiled up at her, though the expression was surprisingly bashful; Chloe could see a faint red to Rachel’s cheeks. Without thinking, she finally placed a hand on Rachel’s face, thinking of nothing but making her feel at ease. Sure enough, Rachel relaxed.

“So… Basically because I wished you were here, you're here?”

“Yep! That simple.” Chloe shook her head, feeling more than a little dumbfounded.

“Well, shit. I should've thought of you sooner.” Rachel chuckled.

“You've been thinking of me this whole time, which is incredibly sweet. It just took a second for you to think me into existence. Which sounds a little weird but.” Rachel shrugged. Chloe chuckled, then paused thoughtfully.

“So is any of this, you know… real? I mean, I know the memories are real because I remember living them… But you, being here? And me?” Rachel gave her a crooked smile.

“They’re about as real as anything else going on in here,” was her non-answer.

“Yeah, going to need a little more than that,” Chloe replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Well,” Rachel began. She was employing that theatrical flourish she used to annoy Chloe. “All of this,” she gestured at the space surrounding them, “is happening in your head. But it doesn’t make it any less real or important.” Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Thanks, Dumbledore.”

“Oh my god. You did _not_ just make a Harry Potter reference.” Chloe could feel the faint blush appearing on her face.

“I, y’know, used to read them a lot as a kid…” Rachel raised an eyebrow. She knew that all of this was happening in her head, but even then, she wouldn’t give Rachel the satisfaction. Rather than admit how much time she’d spent with the legendary teen wizard, she nervously cleared her throat; Rachel gave her that knowing smile, though she did her best to ignore it.

“So,” Chloe began, “I’m, ah… hallucinating all of this? That’s what you’re saying?” Rachel nodded.

“Pretty much. Yeah.” Rachel couldn’t help but notice how quickly Chloe’s face fell at her response, how she inadvertently looked down at her shoes to hide her disappointment. Rachel gently nudged her with her shoulder.

“Hey,” she said softly, “don’t be upset. Whether this is real or made up or whatever… I’m still right here, okay? I want to help you through this until it’s finally over.”

“‘Over’?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah. Wherever, whenever this ends—because it has to at some point—I’ll be there. Here.” Chloe wanted to be brave. She wanted to smile at Rachel’s reassurance, tell her she’d kick ass getting through the rest of these memories, but she couldn’t find it in herself. She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat, trying to keep her composure.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she finally admitted, barely loud enough to be audible. Rachel snaked an arm around the other girl’s waist, pulled her closer.

“Chloe,” she murmured.

Without warning, one of the apparitions spoke up--the other Rachel.

“All right, Price. Since you don’t seem to like my tattoos very much, I thought of something else we can do.” The devil on her shoulder was taking the wheel now; even then, Past Chloe could tell from that coy smirk and the gleam in her partner’s eyes.

“I really hope it’s the thing that I want to do and not something else.” Chloe paused. “I’m talking about sex, if that wasn’t clear,” she deadpanned. Past Rachel laughed. She shifted into a lying position, resting her head in Chloe’s lap.

“We’ll do that later,” she said with a wink.

“You’re already so close,” Chloe muttered.

“Truth or Dare!” Rachel blurted.

“Oh god,” Chloe muttered again.

“I’ll get us started,” Rachel said, continuing to ignore the disdain of blue-haired girl on which she rested. “Truth or dare, Price?”

“Honestly?” The actress narrowed her hazel eyes at the drop-out. “Fuck, fine. Truth.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Now ask up.”

“Hmm…” Rachel hummed to herself, began to stroke her chin in that flamboyant theater kid way. Chloe rolled her eyes. Past Chloe didn’t know, but Reminiscent Chloe did.

“You ask me what my biggest fear is,” Reminiscent Chloe said softly.

“And you say it’s losing the people you love,” Rachel added, her voice just as soft. They looked at each other, their gazes unwavering.

“Any day now, drama queen,” Chloe’s past counterpart said, drumming her fingertips on the floor for emphasis.

“You can’t rush an artist,” said Rachel’s alternate. In response, Chloe’s apparition threw up her hands, making the girl in her lap giggle.

“Okay,” Past Rachel said finally, “what’s your biggest fear, Chloe Price?” Past Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“Biggest fear? Like… getting captured by some creepy dude and having him do some weird, sick shit?” Rachel shook her head as best she could from Chloe’s lap.

“No, not like that. Not horror movie shit. I mean, something real. Something that could actually happen.” Chloe genuinely thought for a moment, absently tracing circles on Rachel’s stomach as she stared at floor.

Finally, she answered, “Being alone.” Her voice was quieter than she thought it would be. “Not, like… like horror movie shit like you said, like being left alone in the house and the power goes out. Though that _is_ creepy.”

“Hey, perfect opportunity to break out a Ouija board,” Rachel suggested. Chloe vigorously shook her head.

“Fuck no. I’m not messing with spirits.” Chloe paused. “Trust me. I’ve tried it before.” From the tone of Chloe’s voice, Rachel could tell that she’d hit a nerve. Her dad.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel said gently, reaching up to place a hand on Chloe’s cheek. Chloe closed her eyes, released a shaky breath that she didn’t even know she was holding.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled.

“Did you… still want to keep talking about it? Your biggest fear?” Chloe’s eyes slowly opened. She shrugged, let a few moments pass between them.

“I dunno,” Chloe eventually sighed. “I guess I just… don’t want to wake up one day and realize that everyone I care about is gone. That anyone I ever loved suddenly disappeared without a trace and I’m just… alone.” At this, Rachel pushed herself up from her girlfriend’s lap, rested her chin on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around her waist. She inhaled Chloe’s scent, her fading cologne and the slight cling of weed on her shirt. It was always so comforting to her.

“It almost wasn’t fair,” Reminiscent Rachel said quietly. “I felt so at home, just… holding you, but I didn’t know if it was enough. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what.” She swallowed hard. “I know that what happened to your dad was… really, really hard for you. I wished I could have done more.”

“That was enough,” Chloe softly replied. “You were enough.”

“Until I left you. Fucking erased you.” A broken whisper. Rachel couldn’t help but slip off, pace away from Chloe. Chloe’s blue eyes burned into her back, but she refused to turn around. She shouldn’t have been, but still felt surprised when she felt Chloe embrace her from behind just a moment later.

“Hey. You’re here now. Let’s not get caught up on the past.” Rachel gave an unexpectedly bitter laugh as she turned to face the other girl.

“Sorry, but… that’s literally the only thing we’re doing right now,” she said, nodding her head toward their past selves. Chloe shook her head, placed one hand on either side of Rachel’s perfect face. Her hazel eyes were wet.

“Like you said,” Chloe began, her voice gentle, “you’re here to help me get through this. Whatever you did or didn’t do… it doesn’t matter now. _This_ does.” The actress sniffled but smiled.

“God,” she murmured, her voice thick with tears that she refused to let fall, “when did you get so sweet on me, Chloe Price?” Chloe grinned.

“I’ve always been sweet on you.” They came together automatically, lips meeting in another kiss. It was slower, more tender, and only broken by a whooping sound coming from Chloe’s counterpart. They slowly parted, like magnets being forcibly pulled away from each other. It turned out that they’d entirely missed Past Rachel’s Truth or Dare choice. She had picked dare, if only so Chloe wouldn’t reciprocate the question she’d just asked her. Chloe, like a twelve-year-old boy, had dared her to flash Arcadia Bay. Initially objecting just to make things more fun, but never one to back down from a challenge, Rachel had done just that. Hence, her girlfriend whooping with excitement.

“Such a child,” Past Rachel had responded with a roll of her eyes. Chloe simply grinned, utterly amused and far too impressed with herself.

“You really are a complete dork,” Rachel said in their current time. “You saw my boobs all the time.”

“Yeah, but the rest of Arcadia Bay had _not_. I figured if there was some confused kid out there, camping with her dad, and she turned her head to the lighthouse at _just_ the right second…” Rachel elbowed her, and they both laughed.

“You’re so weird,” Rachel said with a sigh, though the laughter hadn’t quite died from her lips. Chloe was still smiling, too, when a thought came to her.

“Rach,” she said slowly. Immediately alarmed by Chloe’s tone, Rachel attentively snapped her head up.

“What, babe?” Chloe shook her head slightly, still afraid to ask what was on her mind but desperately wanting to know the truth.

“Eventually, in this game of Truth or Dare, you finally pick truth, and I get to ask you what you asked me: your biggest fear.”

“Yeah.” Chloe hesitated another moment.

“You said that it wasn’t being good enough. But you never really explained what you meant. We ended up going home after that, and I felt like...” She paused. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?” Now it was Rachel’s turn to pause as she contemplated, flicked her eyes to the distance.

“It wasn’t you,” she finally admitted. Chloe sensed that obviously there was more, but she didn’t want to push. Rachel sighed, held one of her arms at the crease of her elbow like she did when she was nervous.

“I was just… being sensitive. But I felt pressure from a lot of things, things that I didn’t necessarily want to open up about yet.”

“Was it your parents?” Chloe gently asked. Rachel exhaled slowly, shook her head.

“Well, kinda, yeah. Like, obviously I felt the pressure to be a good daughter or whatever, but not just because of my parents. I wanted to push myself _for_ myself, make sure I worked my hardest at whatever I did. But I also… I don’t know.” She threw up her hands, then ran one of them through her hair.

“I was scared I wasn’t good enough for you, Chloe,” she finally said. This response genuinely shocked the blue-haired girl.

“Why in the fuck would you ever think that?” she asked, incredulous. Rachel shook her head again, sighed.

“I don’t know. I just… you were always so good to me, Chlo. I hoped I could even be a fraction of what you were to me back to you.”

“If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have stayed with you, Rachel. Seriously.”

“Well, we know that’s not true,” Rachel replied, her tone uncharacteristically flat. “We had one big fight. You spent your time trying to make up with me; I erased you.” Chloe rolled her eyes to the ceiling, grabbed her ex by the shoulders.

“Rachel. I told you: none of that shit matters now. Whether you’re good enough for me or not, you… I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“I love you.”

“Is that enough?”

The teenagers stood apart, simply watching each other.

“I wish you wouldn’t say shit like that,” Chloe finally muttered. The memory hadn’t played all the way out to the moment Chloe had mentioned, her asking about Rachel’s biggest fear, but it began to fade all the same. She guessed the most important part must have happened, her opening up about what scared her most.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel said eventually, her voice quiet. “I’m sorry. Let’s just… let’s get through this. Okay?” Chloe nodded, reached for her companion’s hand. Wordlessly, Rachel took it.

“For the record. I do love you, Chloe Price.” Rachel murmured.

“I know,” Chloe murmured back.

Rachel being here with her now made forgetting difficult, Chloe realized, in another way entirely. The things she’d said, the idea of Rachel not deserving her, of the implication of Rachel even being bad for her… they’d hurt almost as much as watching this whole shitty thing unfold.

But she wouldn’t give up the feeling of Rachel’s hand in hers for anything. She only squeezed tighter as the next memory constructed itself around them. When Rachel reciprocated the pressure, she knew. She needed Rachel beside her.

Just as it always did, the next memory began to play out.

But with Rachel there, maybe it would be okay.


	9. By morning, you'll be gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Rachel continue reliving the past. They're learning how to forgive each other, but there's more work to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!! We in here with chapter 9! Sorry it took a bit of time. I think chapters will be coming out more like every ten days or so as I get deeper into it. This chapter was a bit hard to get started and took some finessing, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> I know we've spent quite a bit of time doing the whole memory-jumping thing, but the arc has some important (and just fluffy) moments. It's also a bit past halfway done now, I'd say. Leave me some feedback--is it tedious? Repetitive? Still fresh? I wanna know!
> 
> Also, not sure if it's tacky to do so but OH WELL. Shout-out to my consistent commenters! I look forward to what you say maybe almost as much as you look forward to these chapters. Thanks for the self-esteem boost! Ahaha. 
> 
> Also I just realized that there are people subscribed to this story? Like, that's cool. Thanks, y'all!
> 
> Till next time, and shit.

Being two equally stubborn and headstrong teenage girls, Chloe Price and Rachel Amber had experienced their fair share of fights. Sometimes Chloe would be a little insensitive. Other times, Rachel would look at another girl just a little too long. Sometimes they fought just because two people who spent so much time together were inclined to sooner or later. The altercations were never really anything too severe, though; the girls would make up, at the latest, the next morning.

Chloe knew a thing or two about pissed-off Rachel Amber. Knew when to approach or let her cool off, knew when to push and when to grovel. That was why the present moment in time felt so strange and uncomfortable for her.

After that last memory, after Rachel’s confession that perhaps she wasn’t right for Chloe, she’d been pretty morose. The next memory had already emerged; it was the day before they broke into the lighthouse and more notably, Chloe’s eighteenth birthday. Rachel had invited herself into her girlfriend’s room at noon (Chloe's eight AM) with a tray of breakfast and an adult magazine.

“Since you’re an adult now,” Rachel had said with a wink.

Chloe recalled this entire day fondly, and she was sure that Rachel did, too. Yet she still felt off. Her laughter was hollow, she sparingly made direct eye contact, and her smiles were forced. Chloe knew Rachel was prone to mood swings, but this was different from her typical brooding. Plus, she was one hell of an actress, and she didn’t even seem to be trying to hide her despondence.

Chloe wanted to talk about it, but talking wasn’t something they were used to. Not really. Hence how the only time they’d really talked had devolved into her accusing Rachel of cheating, Rachel walking out on her, and both of them erasing each other from their memories shortly thereafter. Maybe there wasn’t as much at stake since this was all happening in her head, but even so, she couldn’t stand seeing Rachel this way. So hurt.

Chloe mostly focused on her Rachel, jaw clenched tight, as the memory their alternates lives played out before them. That day, Rachel had dragged Chloe out of the house, forced her into her truck, and gave her explicit directions on where to go without actually revealing where they were going. It was irritating, but endearing in a way that only Rachel Amber could be. It wasn’t until they’d turned into the strip mall parking lot that Chloe realized what they were doing.

“Holy fuck,” Past Chloe breathed, “I’m about to get a tattoo.” Rachel’s grin would have made the Cheshire Cat proud.

“You bet your sweet ass. Let’s do this thing before you wimp out and drive away.”

“Like hell I would.”

Chloe already had her heart set on an entire sleeve of ink on her right arm. She'd sketched it out a few different times and had a pretty solid idea of what she wanted. There was one glaring problem, though: tattoos like hers cost hundreds of dollars, and she could barely afford a pack of cigarettes. As her eyes fell upon the frames pictures of elaborate tattoos that decorated the brick walls, Chloe had one thought: I really fucking need a job.

Rachel, of course, sauntered in as though she owned the place. Upon hearing the bell above the door ring at the girls’ entrance, the burly man sitting at the counter looked up. He had a dark complexion, a mohawk, and a startling amount of facial hair to contrast said mohawk. He boasted an impressive number of tattoos just on the exposed skin of his muscular arms. He didn't seem like the sort of man who should've been the welcome committee, but as soon as he saw Rachel, he smiled.

“So you're the birthday girl, huh?” he asked in a slow, deep rumble. Rachel laughed, shook her head.

“That's this one,” she corrected. She aimed her thumb at the blue-haired girl behind her who was ogling one the tattoos on the wall in absolute wonder. Rachel called her name, and she turned and looked up.

“Uh… hey,” Chloe said rather sheepishly.  The man behind the counter simply laughed.

“It's good work, isn't it? Your girl here picked me and my crew ‘cause we're the best in the bay.” Chloe quirked an eyebrow.

“You two know each other?” she asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” came Rachel’s customary non-answer.

“I'm Joel,” said the burly man behind the counter, “which means you're Rachel,” he said, turning to face her.

“The one and only,” she responded with a grin. The two shook hands.

“I still don't understand,” Chloe said slowly, looking between the actress and the artist. They already seemed like old pals.

“Rachel first contacted me a couple weeks ago,” Joel explained, making his way back behind the counter. Apparently, Rachel had been researching local tattoo artists for a bit before she reached out to him. Chloe watched, intrigued, as the mohawked man flipped open a laptop, clicked through a couple things, and then turned the screen to face both of them.

“You were looking to do something like this, right?” Joel asked. And yes, there it was. It was her tattoo, but even more awesome than she’d envisioned. A golden skull sat upon a throne of tangled thorns. Scarlet flowers bloomed from and sapphire butterflies floated around the stem. The colors were so vivid, the details were stunning and fuck did she want this tattoo.

“How did you do this?” Chloe asked, bewildered. “How did you even know this was what I wanted? And how does it look so much fucking cooler?” Joel laughed.

“Hey, all I did was touch it up a bit. The line art itself was pretty damn good. You do that yourself?”

“Ah, yeah, but how did you get my tattoo?” Only when she asked aloud did she realize.

“Oh my god,” Chloe breathed, turning to the girl beside her. Rachel looked pretty damn proud of herself, her typical complacent smile even more smug than usual.

“Your tattoo’s all set and paid for,” Rachel said, still grinning. She hesitated. “If you’d like it,” she amended, almost bashfully. Chloe couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around this magnificent girl.

“Are you fucking kidding? Of course I want it! Holy shit. Oh my god, tat me up,” she gushed, turning her head toward Joel but still holding onto Rachel. The two in cahoots laughed.

“All right! One kickass sleeve, coming right on up. I’ll just need to see some ID while I get things ready.”

Chloe was beside herself with excitement, bouncing up and down where she stood. Rachel laughed and chided her like a kid in a candy store.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Chloe said, still bouncing in spite of herself. “Oh my god, I could kiss you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?” Rachel asked, quirking an eyebrow. And the answer, really, was nothing, so Chloe put both hands on her girlfriend’s collar, pulled her close, and made good on her word.

The spectating Chloe turned to the spectating Rachel. The blonde watched the scene before them with unfocused eyes. Chloe frowned.

“Hey,” she said, gently nudging her memory-jumping companion, “everything okay?” It took the other girl a fraction of a second too long to look back at her.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Rachel…” Chloe murmured, but any words she’d been planning on saying died in her throat. When Rachel had brought her to that tattoo parlour, the design and the payment already set, was she doubting herself?

Past Chloe was sitting a chair now. Rachel sat on a stool beside her as Joel got his paints ready.

“Here,” Rachel had said. She slipped her hand into Chloe’s and squeezed.

“Pfft. You think I’m scared or something?” Chloe scoffed. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“You can put on that tough, punk girl act with everyone else, Chloe Price, but not with me.” Rachel’s expression softened. “You don’t have to wear a mask around me. So relax, okay?” And Chloe did. She dropped her head back against the leather headrest, exhaled slowly, and gave Rachel’s hand a firm squeeze. Rachel returned the pressure, letting her know that she was there for her.

Honestly. Was Rachel thinking, even as she held Chloe’s hand, squeezed her shoulder, or ran her fingers through her hair, that was she was no good for her? When Chloe gritted her teeth in pain and Rachel whispered in her ear, telling her how strong she was, was that thought on her mind? Even when she handed Joel all the cold, hard cash; even as Chloe stared at her arm in the mirror, eyes wide in wonder and wet with emotion--did she think she wasn’t good enough for her?

“Damn it!” Chloe suddenly growled, frustrated. Rachel jumped slightly beside her. It had been the first real reaction she’d gotten from her since her previous admission.

“Look at me, Rachel,” Chloe demanded, taking hold of one of Rachel’s perfectly manicured hands. Rachel stared at Chloe wide-eyed, still caught off-guard by the sudden shift. The blue-haired girl shook her head, used her free hand to point at their alternates.

“Not this me, but the one in the memory. The one standing there, about to bawl like a goddamn little kid, because her amazing fucking girlfriend made her dreams come true.” Rachel slowly turned to face the other selves. Joel, who was beaming at his fantastic work, was now wrapping up Past Chloe’s arm in plastic. Past Chloe used her idle hand to quickly brush a tear from the corner of her eye, hoping above all that Rachel hadn’t seen her.

“You… you did something _incredible_ for me, Rach,” Chloe began. “I don’t even want to know how much birthday money, Christmas money, allowances, whatever, went into that tattoo. That was probably everything you had, money you could’ve put toward getting out of here. But instead, you spent it on me. Incorrigible fuck-up, petty criminal with no job _me._  Just to make me happy.” She turned her attention back to Rachel.

“Is that something that someone who doesn’t care would do?” she asked. Rachel couldn’t ignore the heat in that blue gaze. The way her eyes pierced her, she had to look away, bite down on her lip.

“Don’t you think I’d deserve someone who put that much thought and, I don’t know, like, a fucking investment in me?”

“It’s not that simple,” Rachel contested, fire crawling into her voice. “I got you that tattoo because--”

“Because you wanted to make my shitty life not shitty for once. Not because you felt like you _owed_ me or had to prove how much you _deserve_ me.”

“I mean, yeah, but--” Chloe wouldn’t let her finish, wouldn’t let her continue doubting herself.

“Seriously, Rachel. How much planning did you put into that? Joel said you reached out to him a couple weeks before he worked on me. You must’ve snagged one of my sketches at some point, sent it to him, got him to do a mock-up…”

“Chloe--”

“No, Rachel. Don’t tell me you don’t deserve me. Don’t act like somehow you’re bad for me, because I…” Chloe tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, but it was difficult. She was generally quite an emotional person, but she tried to ignore this most of the time--it didn’t really compliment her cool girl, don’t-give-a-fuck persona. But everything that had occurred in the last couple weeks had been so taxing that she didn’t think she could hold back any longer.

Chloe didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. Gradually, the actress’s lips turned in a sad smile. She wrapped her arms around the other girl’s, nestled her face in the crook between her neck and her shoulder.

“I’m really fucking up, huh?” she said, her voice soft. “I’m supposed to be here to support you, help you get through all of these fucking memories, but somehow… you’re still the one comforting me.” She laughed. It was humorless but good-spirited. “God, am I a selfish bitch or what?” Chloe pulled away at that, about to object, but Rachel silenced her with a kiss. All thoughts left the blue-haired girl’s mind as their lips met, as she slipped a hand to cup the other girl’s cheek. The memory around them was already beginning to fade by the time Rachel slowly pulled away.

“Thank you, Chloe,” she said quietly. The drop-out smiled.

“Hey, anytime you need someone to help you pull your head out of your ass…” Rachel giggled, gave Chloe a shove. A moment passed, and Rachel became resolute the next time she spoke.

“Seriously, though,” she started, “I’ll be better. For you.” Chloe smiled, syrupy sweet. What this girl did to her. As they murmured sweet exchanges, the tattoo parlour disappeared. The next scene began to shimmer into existence, and Chloe was surprised to see--

“Snow,” Rachel murmured from beside her. Sure enough, they were standing outside in Chloe’s front yard. The snow wasn’t usually too bad in Arcadia Bay, but it had snowed for the last day and a half without stopping, and the stuff had really begun to pile up. The icy powder came up to right above Chloe’s ankle, which Rachel had decided was more than enough snow to build a snowman.

“Oh shit! I know when this is! Those crazy couple snow days we had back in January.” Chloe’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning; she loved the snow. Rachel, being a Cali girl, also found snow rather novel even though she’d gone snowboarding a couple times in the northern part of the state.

At the present moment, their past counterparts were putting the finishing touches on their masterpiece. Past Rachel artfully placed a piece of black licorice--one of David’s favorite snacks that Chloe was all too happy to steal--at the top of the snowman’s head in a distinguished, angry unibrow. She placed another at the bottom of the snowman’s head, curving it down in a scowl.

They didn’t have any carrots at home, though for some reason, they had radishes. Chloe stuck the radish between the pieces of licorice.

“I think this nose suits him better, anyway,” Chloe had commented. “Don’t you?”

“Oh, definitely,” Rachel responded.

Joyce did have a bunch of buttons in the sewing kit in her room, but unlike David’s licorice, Chloe felt a little guilty taking those. Instead, she fished for some change from the pockets of her winter coat and used a penny and a nickel for the eyes.

“Since all he sees anyway are dollar signs,” Chloe said with a tremendous eye roll.

“True that. Hey, give me some more change for the buttons.” Chloe obliged, handing Rachel the rest of her change. In the meantime, Chloe took a tie (at least this was her own) and looped it around the bottom of the snowman’s head. Now that all of the details were in place, both girls took a step back to admire their work.

“It’s missing something,” Rachel said finally, her head cocked to the side.

“You’re right.” Chloe reached for the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small box of rolling papers. She quickly crafted a weedless joint, then stuck it at the bottom right corner of the snowman’s scowl.

“Oh my god,” Rachel said, laughing. “ _That_ was the missing piece. Now we have perfectly captured the spirit of Principal Ray Wells.” Chloe stepped back again, and sure enough, they had: the grimace, the stubby radish nose, the angry v-shaped unibrow, and now, the joint that he desperately needed.

“He’s such a fucking hard-ass. I figured he could use a smoke.” Rachel giggled.

“Absolutely.” She sighed. “This is a creation most beautiful. Would only the sun cease shining so that we may not one day be stripped of it.”

“Uhh, yeah, no more Shakespeare. We’ve talked about this, babe.”

“I know, I know.” A thoughtful pause. “You know, Mr. Keaton still talks about you sometimes.” Chloe grimaced.

“You can’t be serious. I did, like, half a scene one time almost two years ago.”

“Yeah, and that was enough, I guess.” Rachel laughed. “Honestly, he’s, like, your biggest fan. After me, of course.” Chloe rolled her eyes to the cloudy skies above.

“ _Please_ shut up.”

“ _Please_ make me.”

So Chloe did, though probably not in the way her girlfriend expected. Chloe leapt at her, and Rachel screamed as they fell backward into the snow. There was enough of it to make for a soft, albeit cold, landing. Rachel lay in the snow on her back, while Chloe lay right on top of her.

“I hate you!” Rachel shouted through her fit of giggles.

“What was that?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow. She sat up so that she straddled the girl beneath her. “Did you say you wanted me to shove snow in your face?” Rachel’s eyes grew wide.

“CHLOE. NO.”

“Chloe _yes?_ ”

“Oh my god, Price. If you put snow in my face, you will absolutely fucking regret it.”

“Okay. How about this instead?” Chloe asked. Without warning, she slipped a fistful of snow beneath the collar of Rachel’s jacket and into her sweater.

“Jesus, FUCK!” Rachel screamed. Chloe giggled deviously and, with a speed that she had never mustered in her life, immediately got off of Rachel and ran into the backyard. She did _not_ want to deal with whatever Rachel had in store for her.

“You were so fucking obnoxious,” Reminiscent Rachel said. She was shaking her head, though there was a smile on her face. Reminiscent Chloe laughed along with her scheming past counterpart.

“That was good, you have to admit it. Plus, you made me suffer for it.” Rachel grinned as she watched the scene unfold before them. It didn’t take long before her alternate caught up to Chloe’s and rained hellfire--or rather snow--upon her. Past Rachel had tackled Past Chloe from behind, and Chloe breathlessly, between her fits of laughter, screamed, “Mercy!” Of course, Rachel wasn’t having any of it. She delivered Chloe a snow walloping that she would never forget.

“After that snow fight, I felt like I was never going to be warm ever again,” Spectating Chloe said with a shudder. Rachel nodded.

“It was pretty brutal. But we hardly ever get snow like that. It had to be done.”

“Oh, without a doubt.” Before they knew it, their snow day had meandered back to Christmas Day. It had become a tradition of sorts for Rachel to stay the night at Chloe’s on Christmas Eve, and then they’d have dinner at the Ambers’ Christmas Day. Chloe and Rachel sat on the living room floor, snuggled into each other while David and Joyce did the same from the couch, much to Chloe’s disapproval.

Chloe hadn’t had much money--as usual--but pulling together with David, she was actually able to get her mother a pretty nice gift: a brand new mixer, mint colored and with so many settings that it honestly made Chloe’s head spin. Joyce loved it, pulling her girl and her guy in for a big family hug. It went without saying, but it made Chloe’s skin crawl. Rachel laughed at the look on her girlfriend’s face, and Joyce beckoned her over. Being Rachel, she had no problem joining in on the affection. Chloe hated the entire ordeal, though, and ended it about just as quickly as it had begun.

Later that night, in the privacy of Rachel’s room, she and Chloe had exchanged gifts for their second Christmas together. Chloe fretted nervously, too self-conscious about her gift to offer giving it up first. She and Rachel had been together long enough, though, that Rachel could sense her nerves without Chloe even speaking. She slid her gift, a rectangular box, onto Chloe’s lap and watched her expectantly.

They sat on her bed. The lights were low. Indie music played softly from Rachel’s phone. There was a tension in the air just waiting to broken, and the way Rachel looked at her, it wasn’t about the gifts. Chloe cleared her throat, fumbled for a moment with the box in her lap.

She didn’t immediately understand it upon opening it. It was a thick black book. Rachel had doodled on the cover with neon pink, orange, yellow, green. There were drawings of the anarchy A, the shape of California, Chloe’s truck, drama masks.

“Open it,” Rachel whispered. Her voice was low, eyes dark and hungry. Chloe tried her best to keep her thoughts from wandering as she opened the book. The first page had a title and a dedication: “From the Bay to L.A.: Chloe and Rachel’s Awesome Adventure. Dedicated to Chloe Price, of course. I love you, you nerd.”

Chloe flipped to the next page. It was a picture of them together. Actually, looking closer, it was the _first_ picture of them together: a glowing, colorful selfie at the Firewalk concert the night they met. There was a caption beneath it in a scrawling font similar to Rachel’s handwriting: “ _Firewalk with me, won’t you dear Chloe?_ I knew the night we met that you would change everything.” The next page had a picture of them together after The Tempest, beaming at the camera in their elaborate costumes. This caption read, “ _I swear to thee, you’ll be so happy, you’ll forget thy liberty._ I may have been on stage, but everything I said to you was real.” The pictures continued in this fashion, a snapshot, a little rhyme, and Rachel’s quick sentiment on what was happening.

Halfway through, the tone of the book changed. Rachel had named it “Our Awesome Fucking Future”, and there were pictures of various places around California. One picture was framed looking down a dock into deep, blue waters. “ _I can’t wait to be with you here at the great Santa Monica Pier!_ We’ll blaze while we watch the sunset.” Picture after picture, plan after plan, Chloe felt her chest constrict. Rachel just smiled...

“God,” Chloe murmured, “I didn’t know what to say then, and I still don’t now.” She swallowed hard. “Rachel, I…”

“It’s okay,” Rachel murmured, nuzzling into her neck. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I can’t believe I threw it away,” Chloe said bitterly, tears of anger welling up in her eyes. “Past, present, future. Everything about you. I stuffed it into a garbage bag and fucking…”

“Chloe, my Chloe.” Rachel pulled away, only to gently turn Chloe’s face back to hers. “It’s okay, really.”

“It’s not,” Chloe snapped. “I threw you away, Rachel.”

“Only because I did first,” Rachel said, trying to keep her tone light. Chloe wasn’t biting. “Hey, babe, it’s okay. It’ll all be okay…”

In the memory around them, Christmas Day Chloe had begun to cry.

“Such a big softie,” Rachel gently teased, pulling her in close.

“Fuck you,” Chloe muttered, holding her tighter.

“Maybe after I open your present,” Rachel said, quietly chuckling to herself.

They did open Chloe’s present, eventually. She’d made Rachel another mix CD, along with matching bracelets: one with an R, one with a C.

“My gift seems a little lame now,” Chloe said with a half-hearted laugh. Rachel vigorously shook her head.

“Don’t be silly--I love them. Let’s never take them off,” Rachel said, sliding Chloe’s onto her wrist. She held out her wrist for Chloe to do the same. She did, and then immediately after, tackled to Rachel onto her back. Rachel gasped, but the gasp quickly turned into a sly smile.

“That bracelet’s going to be the only thing you’re wearing,” Chloe growled. Rachel couldn’t help but groan as Chloe closed the distance between them.

“I am _not_ watching us get it on again,” Chloe said. She was still angry, Rachel could tell, but at least she was cracking a joke.

“Something tells me we won’t have to,” Rachel replied. She had already noticed the scenery around them begin to change.

Now their alternates sat at the dining room table at the Amber house, Chloe elbow deep in the bowels of a pumpkin.

“Hey, babe, look,” Rachel said softly, nudging Chloe with her shoulder. Chloe extricated herself from Rachel, jaw clenched tight, blue eyes still wet.

“Last Halloween,” Rachel whispered, nodding her head toward the memory in front of them. Halloween Chloe delighted at the slimy, gooey texture and often threatened to rub it all over Rachel, who was less than thrilled by the prospect. By the end of it all, Rose Amber had the fixings to make an incredible pumpkin pie, and the teens had a pirate pumpkin complete with an eyepatch. Chloe’s idea, of course. They were joined now by James, and everyone watched in a kind of spell as the candlelight flickered and danced inside of the lantern.

“That jack-o-lantern actually looked majorly good. We did a hell of a job, Chloe Price,” Rachel said.

“What’s it matter?” Chloe huffed. “Soon, it’ll be like it never happened.”

“But it did, Chloe. It was another thing we bonded over and… it might be gone now, but it was real, and it was important, and it happened.”

“This isn’t making me feel better.” Tears of anger now began to spill down the blue-haired girl’s cheeks. Rachel shook her head.

“Maybe it won’t,” she admitted rather sullenly. “But just know that no matter what, Chloe, I’m here for you. And I’m… okay with this. I’m okay with you forgetting me.” Chloe’s anger vanished for one brief moment, giving way to surprise. Rachel rolled with it. “Honestly, it just kind of makes sense. We’re so intertwined in each other’s lives that like… you, remembering me while I don’t remember you, or vice versa. We wouldn’t even be the same people.

“I guess what I’m saying is, it made sense for you to want to forget me. I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if I were you, knowing we had this larger than life love and now you're the only one who feels it. Who even remembers that it happened. I'd erase me, too, Chlo." Rachel threw up her hands, shook her head. "I'm not _mad_ at you, for any of this. I don’t think you should beat yourself up about it, either.” Chloe simply stood, silent, fists clenched at her sides.

“I should have waited,” she finally said. “I'm always so fucking hot-headed about everything. I should've… should've found you again, started over. We could have made it work.”

“You know my dad would _never_ let you come near me, Chloe. Honestly, he probably already had a restraining order written up and ready to go, with all of his lawyer bullshit.” Rachel shook her head. “No, I don't think it would've worked. But there isn't really much either of us can do about it now, is there?” Chloe swallowed hard, rubbed at her teary eyes.

“I guess not,” was her solemn response.

“So we keep going. Keep marching on even through all the bullshit. Okay?” Chloe hesitated another moment. She was clearly still struggling with herself, but eventually she nodded.

“Keep moshing on, I guess.” Rachel smiled, cupped Chloe’s cheek.

“That's my shaka brah.”

“What in the hell? Don't even _try_ to tell me that's a Cali thing.” Rachel laughed.

They were flying through memories now: the Vortex party where Victoria had caught them going at it in a corner, only to become so intoxicated that she forgot the sight entirely; Rachel's first day as a junior, when Chloe intended to drop her off in her truck. It'd gotten a flat on the way to class, and Chloe had to pull over and change the tire. 

“God, that was sexy,” Rachel reminisced.

“Oh, yeah,” Chloe said with a chuckle. “You didn’t let me sleep much that night.”

“Could you blame me? You were all sweaty and grimy but you were so good with your hands and _ugh_.”

And before she knew it, it was summertime in Chloe’s mind. Her memory had presented her a particularly special day: Rachel’s seventeenth birthday and its surrounding weekend.

“Well,” Chloe said dryly, turning to her companion, “this will be fun.” Rachel grabbed her arm at the bend, glanced away. They both knew what had gone down on Rachel’s birthday, and while it wasn't the worst thing in the world, it would be uncomfortable to watch nonetheless.

“We can do it,” Rachel said, sounding surprisingly sure of herself. She reached for Chloe’s hand. “I know we can.” Chloe sighed, rolled her eyes.

“Well then, let's get this shit over with.”

And the last day of Rachel’s birthday celebration formed before them.


	10. The world forgetting, by the world forgot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe already thought it was hard to relive her memories, and that was before she had to relive this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chaaaaapter 10, let's do it again.
> 
> I don't see there being more than 5 chapters of this left? Maybe like 4? We're winding down.
> 
> For the small part where Rachel and Chloe are dancing, I like to imagine they're listening to Eisley! Maybe "Wonder English" or "Sparking". Really all of their songs are pretty. You should check 'em out.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts and feelings and such!

Chloe hadn’t seen much outside of Arcadia Bay, so when Rachel’s parents formally invited her on Rachel’s birthday trip to Seaside, she was ecstatic. Rachel’s parents--one being a powerful politician, the other being essentially a Stepford wife--owned a small cottage in the quiet beach town, not far from the surf and sand. Of course.

Chloe had never been to Seaside, but Rachel had told her plenty about the trips she’d taken there as a kid. She spoke of nights strolling down the boardwalk, one of small her hands in each of her parents’ own. She told Chloe about the time she forced her parents to ride the carousel with her over and over and over again because she had loved all of the lights--hundreds of them twinkling over head reminded her of stars. She recalled sitting on her dad’s shoulders as her family meandered through the Seaside Museum, remembered them visiting the beach every single day and how horribly sunburned her dad had gotten one year.

“Honestly, it was a lot more fun when I was a kid,” Rachel admitted, “but we’ll find things to do. Plus, it’ll be nice to get the hell away from the bay for a weekend.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

The memory itself unfolded before them. Currently, Rachel and Chloe sat in the backseat of the Amber Audi sedan. James took the driver’s seat while Rose rode shotgun.

They were on their way back to Arcadia Bay, and none of the Amber were speaking to one another.

Chloe wondered how she always managed to wind up in the middle of Amber family drama. Catching Rachel’s dad with another woman, learning the truth about Sera, and now this (among other, albeit smaller, spats). Chloe was glad that, like the other times, she was by Rachel’s side to support her. At the same time, though, she really wasn’t a fan of dealing with other families’ dysfunction--she already had to handle her mom’s fucked-up marriage to Sergeant Small Dick. If the girl next to her had been anyone else, she would have bailed ages ago. Only because this was Rachel Amber did she allow herself to become a bystander in the Ambers’ uncomfortable affairs.

Then again, this last falling-out was entirely her fault.

She turned her head to the side, watched the girl beside her. The blonde glared out the window, lips clamped tight, arms wrapped around herself. Chloe frowned. Cautiously, she crept a hand across the empty middle seat, placed it gently on Rachel’s thigh. Rachel turned, looked down at the touch before looking up at the person who had delivered it. She gave Chloe a quick smile, a sad smile, as she took Chloe’s hand into her own. Then she turned back to the window, lost in her own thoughts as she watched Oregon fly by.

The blue-haired girl wished she could have done more. Done more to make Rachel hurt less, done more to keep the family from coming to odds with one another. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, really. She just wanted to let loose a little with her girlfriend. Of course, that had been too much to ask…

It was the night before, their last night in Seaside. Chloe, Rachel, James, and Rose had spent the day at beach, the teenagers shouting and giggling and splashing each other, stealing kisses when Rachel’s parents’ attention had strayed. Rachel’s birthday dinner took place shortly after, at a cozy little seafood place along the boardwalk. Night had fallen by the time they’d returned to the cottage. Rose pulled out sparklers for everyone to goof around with, much to Rachel’s childish delight.

Twirling around with her eyes alight with joy, sparks flying from her hand, she herself looked to be a star. Chloe couldn’t take her eyes off of her, couldn’t believe that she was lucky enough to know her.

Eventually, her parents headed to bed. Rose wrapped her arms around her adoptive daughter, wished her a happy birthday as Rachel eagerly squeezed her back. James was next, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and telling her to sleep tight. Rachel hugged him, and the Amber parents shuffled inside the quaint two-story cottage.

“Ugh, what a day!” Rachel exclaimed, twirling around. Giggling, she pulled up some music on her phone, set it down on the nearby picnic table, and then stretched her hand out to Chloe.

“Dance with me, darling,” she said with a heavy, theatrical flourish.

“Not even on your birthday, Amber.”

“Come _on_ ,” Rachel said, grabbing her girl by the wrists. “One dance won’t kill you.”

“Says who?” Chloe muttered, but she allowed herself to be dragged away.

They danced, Rachel’s arms draped over Chloe’s shoulders, Chloe’s arms resting on Rachel’s hips. The song was soft and slow. Chloe had never heard it before. Spontaneity was practically Rachel’s middle name, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this moment had been somewhat premeditated. Not that she cared. She couldn’t dance very well, but Rachel didn’t seem to mind. They came together every so often and gave each other soft, slow kisses under the stars, and it was the closest thing to perfection that Chloe Price had ever known.

The song ended. The girls stopped swaying in time but kept their arms around each other.

“Today has been magical,” Rachel sighed, nuzzling into her girlfriend’s neck. “I wish it didn’t have to end.” Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, who says it does?”

“Hey, Price,” Rachel said, and even though she couldn't see her face, Chloe could hear the suspicion in her tone. “I already told you; the walls are way too thin.”

“I know, I know, no sex. But a smoke couldn’t hurt, right?” Chloe pulled away. Rachel watched her, considering. “C’mon, Rach,” Chloe pressed. “Your parents are in bed. They won’t see or smell anything. Plus...” Chloe was already pulling a glass pipe from her back pocket. “It _is_ your birthday. What’s a birthday if you’re not high?” Rachel smiled, begrudgingly at first, but then true as Chloe pulled a baggie out of her other pocket.

“It’s already been a fabulous birthday.” Rachel hesitated, looked at the second floor window where her parents slept. The lights were out. “Guess it could be a little more fabulous, though,” she admitted with a smile. “Pack that shit up.”

The two girls sat at the picnic table while Chloe did just as she was told. In just a few moment, the bowl was packed and ready to smoke.

“After you, birthday girl,” Chloe said, offering the pipe to the blonde. Rachel didn’t need to be told twice. After her hit, she leaned back, stretched, and blew a stream of smoke from her lips.

“Fuck, that’s smooth,” she murmured, handing the pipe back to the blue-haired girl.

“I spared no expense on your birthday. Made sure Frank gave me the best shit he had.”

“You’re absolutely wonderful.” The teenagers met again in a kiss, broken only by Chloe taking a hit for herself. She’d never had this particular strain before--because she couldn't typically afford it--but Rachel was right when she said it was smooth. Strong, too. Only a few minutes had passed, and she was effervescent. They passed pipe back and forth wordlessly, taking in the music and the stars and the warmth of each other’s company.

There was a loud, metallic clang. Both girls jumped, immediately clambering up from the picnic bench.

“What the hell was that?” Chloe cried.

“Don’t know,” Rachel muttered.

Weed typically relaxed Chloe, but this stuff was new and hitting her hard. Plus, technically they were surrounded by dense forest, the kind of dense forest that serial killers delighted at hiding in before ripping their victims apart with a chainsaw.

Though she was likely as high as Chloe, Rachel seemed more composed; she grabbed her phone from the table and turned on her flashlight. Panicked, Chloe snatched up one of the metal sticks they’d used to toast s’mores the night before and brandished it like a sword.

Rachel swept the flashlight in front of them. Both girls suddenly sighed, shoulders slumping in relief as they watched a raccoon scurry away. Rachel walked around the corner of the house, the light from her phone illuminating an overturned metal trash can.

“Jesus,” Chloe breathed. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Honestly? Same,” said Rachel, turning back to her.

“Girls?” came another voice. A male voice, deep and clear, but sounding a little uncertain. Any sense of relief Chloe had felt until that moment immediately vanished. She turned to Rachel, whose face had turned white.

“Girls?” came the voice again. James Amber stepped outside, clad in his PJs and wielding a baseball bat.

There was no danger, not really. It’d only been a raccoon looking for a midnight snack. Not that James Amber had known that. As soon as he’d heard the bang, he sat up, grabbed the baseball bat he kept under the bed, and sprinted downstairs. He had expected an intruder at worst, but as he stepped into a cloud of weed smoke, he began to reevaluate his worst case scenario.

“Rachel?” he asked slowly, as though he wasn’t sure his own daughter stood in front of him.

“Dad,” Rachel said, quickly slipping over and offering her cheesiest smile. “Hey. Did we wake you?” He shook his head, his dark eyebrows pulled together with concern.

“No, I… heard a noise. A loud bang.”

“It was a raccoon,” Rachel said quickly and with a nervous laugh. “Digging through our trash. It really scared me and Chloe.”

Chloe, at this point, was petrified, standing next to the trash can as though she’d seen a ghost. She wanted to act natural, but she didn’t know how one did so when they were really fucking high and about to get busted for it.

“H-hey, Mr. Amber,” she stammered. “Yeah, just a… raccoon.” James nodded slowly. His eyebrows were still drawn together, his lips shut tight. He sniffed the air and recoiled.

“Is this smell what I think it is?” he asked, his words deliberate and slow and oh god, they were so fucked.

“Probably a skunk?” Chloe said, though it was more of a question. A shot in the dark to get them off the hook. She quickly glanced at Rachel, but she could tell by the desperate look in her eyes that it was already too late.

“ _Marijuana_?” James asked critically. “Are you two out here smoking _marijuana_?”

“Err, well, usually we just call it weed…” Chloe joked.

James did not find it funny.

“Dad--” Rachel began. He held up a hand, and she immediately fell silent.

“Where is it?” he demanded.

“Dad--” Rachel tried again, only to be cut off once more.

“Rachel. Where is it?” Rachel flicked her eyes over to Chloe, who could only give her a dismayed expression and a hopeless shrug. Exhaling harshly, Rachel lifted the pipe from the picnic table and presented it to her father. He took it from her, looked it over, then turned it upside down. The remaining leaves fell to the ground, forever lost among the blades of grass. Chloe flinched. She’d kind of paid top dollar for that shit. It was a shame.

Rachel watched her dad, color fiercely coming back into her face. Instead of returning her burning gaze, her father turned to the girl in the beanie.

“Chloe,” he said in that deliberate, douchey district attorney way. “Am I wrong to assume this was your doing?” At this, Chloe was taken aback.

“W-what?” she stammered. Fuck, she was too high for this.

“The marijuana. Was it yours?” he asked. Before Chloe could open her mouth to answer, Rachel stepped between them.

“Dad,” she said for the third time. She sounded confident this time, strong, and Chloe immediately knew what she was going to do.

“Don’t take this out on Chloe, okay? It’s mine.” James Amber slightly lifted one eyebrow.

“Really,” he asked, though it wasn’t really a question. Rachel nodded, never breaking eye contact.

“ _Really_ ,” she stressed, looking him dead in the eye. They stared at each other like predators waiting to strike. Chloe simply stood to the side, still a little too high for whatever the fuck this power struggle was.

“Somehow, I am hard-pressed to believe that,” James said finally.

“Well, I’m sorry Dad, but that’s the truth.” James looked over at Chloe, whose eyes immediately grew wide. He looked back down at his daughter.

“You know, Rachel. This wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve tried to take the fall for this girl.” Rachel’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not ‘taking the fall’ for anyone. And she’s not just ‘this girl’: she’s Chloe.”

“Hey,” said Chloe with an easy smile, giving them a bashful wave.

They ignored her.

“I don’t care _who_ she is if she’s introducing you to drugs.”

“Dad, she’s not ‘introducing’ me to anything. I told you, the weed was mine.”

“All right. If that’s the case…” James turned to the blue-haired girl. “Chloe. Can you come here, please?” His tone was so civil that Chloe knew nothing good could come of it. She shivered, despite it being the middle of summer, and slowly shuffled forward. She stared at Rachel in moderate panic. All Rachel could do was watch, the same panic reflected on her face.

“Thank you, Chloe,” James said once Chloe stood beside him. “Now, could you go ahead and empty your pockets for me?”  
  
“Dad!” Rachel cried, stepping between her father and her girlfriend again.

“ _Not now_ , Rachel,” James said through gritted teeth.

“That’s not fucking fair!” Rachel shouted. “You’re not a _police officer_ or something--”

“You’re right, Rachel; I’m the _district attorney_. Now, empty your pockets, Chloe.”

Chloe looked at James. James looked at Chloe. Rachel looked at them both, fists clenched, eyebrows knitted together.

Slowly, Chloe reached into her pocket and pulled out the baggie. She really wished now that she hadn’t splurged, because she had leftovers.

James simply raised an eyebrow.

“Dad--” Rachel started.

“ _Enough_ ,” James barked. “Chloe Price. I had my misgivings about you from the very beginning.” He sighed. “I came around eventually. I thought maybe you were good for Rachel after all, that you had something she couldn’t find in anyone else. I grew to trust you. Now I’ve come to find that I should have trusted my instincts.”

“Dad!”

“I’ll drive you home tomorrow. After that, I’ll take you in for possession of an illegal substance.”

Chloe lost all feeling in all of her limbs.

“Dad!” Rachel shouted again.

“What’s going on down here?” came Rose’s voice. She stood in the doorway, watching the others with an open mouth and wide eyes.

“Chloe is corrupting our daughter,” James calmly said at the same time Rachel screamed, “Dad is threatening Chloe!” Rose cried, “What?” and Rachel was hysterical now, tears flowing down her cheeks. Chloe still couldn’t feel her legs, but she somehow managed to make it to the picnic table and sit down. Rose and Rachel and James were all screaming at each other, but the words had fallen on deaf ears.

She’d really fucked up this time, huh?

James knew Chloe smoked. It was one of the first things she’d admitted about herself the night they met, that she and Rachel’s real mother had the same dealer. It was a tongue-in-cheek comment, meant to ruffle feathers, but James must have overlooked it once she helped save Rachel’s life.

Now that Rachel was in the picture, though, things must have been different. Rachel was an angel by no means, but her father paid attention rather selectively. He thought of Rachel as the perfect daughter and refused to see her as anything else, no matter what evidence was thrown right in his face. Some district attorney. Even though Rachel was smoking too, even if the weed truly had been Rachel’s, it still would’ve been Chloe’s fault, she was sure.

God, if only she’d left it alone. She could’ve waited waited until they got back to the bay to smoke; they’d be back in twelve hours. Now she was going to jail for the rest of her life. Fuck, was she a dumbass.

“James, don’t you find this resolution a bit drastic?” Rose asked, placing a placating hand on his shoulder. He shook his head.

“Absolutely not. Rachel had _no_ interest in any of these substances until Chloe entered the picture. I’m absolutely certain of it.”

“You don’t know _anything,_ ” Rachel growled.

“They’re _kids,_ James,” Rose said at the same time. “It’s something they’re going to experiment with.”

“Not in my home,” James huffed. He’d begun to pace back and forth. Rachel watched him with teary, narrowed eyes. “And not with my daughter. No, as soon as we are back in Arcadia Bay tomorrow, I’ll take Chloe in myself.” Rose looked surprised at this.

“James,” she began, her tone chiding, but Rachel cut him off.

“You can’t do that!” she yelled.

“I am _exactly_ the person who _can_ do that, Rachel.” James turned back to his wife. “She won’t get into any real trouble. She’s still underage and can have it expunged from her record. Though I don’t think it would hurt her to do some community service.”

“You _asshole_!” Rachel shouted. “If you get Chloe in trouble, I will _never_ speak to you again. Never!”

Everyone stopped. Rose stared, her mouth still hanging open stupidly. James, though his breathing was hard, stood stock still, glaring at his daughter. Tears streamed down Rachel’s face as she stood in front of her father, but her gaze never faltered. Chloe stared, her stomach in knots.

“Why are you willing to give up so much for this girl?” James finally asked, eyes narrowed.

Without missing a beat, Rachel replied, “I love her.” For the first time since the debacle began, Rachel softened ever so slightly. She flicked her eyes over to Chloe, who was still trying to get a grasp on how things had escalated so quickly. She also felt like she was going to puke, but she was trying to hold it down--she already looked bad enough as it was.

James looked surprised at Rachel’s sudden confession; his lips were still pursed, but his eyebrows raised in spite of himself. Finally, he sighed, ran a hand through his dark hair.

“Fine,” he said at last. Rachel could have been bluffing, but she was wrathful enough that her father was not willing to call it. “Chloe is free to go. But you’ll see, Rachel… you’ll see what decisions like this, what relationships like this will do to your future. I saw it first-hand with Sera.” He shook his head, sighed. “Sometimes, Rachel… love, no matter how strong it is, is not enough.” He looked defeated; his shoulders slumped forward and his eyes turned downward. Rachel swallowed hard but continued to stand her ground, looking her downtrodden father straight in the eye.

“Let’s go to bed, honey,” Rose softly said. She placed a hand on James’s arm, gave the girls a final glance, and walked him back into the house.

As soon as they were gone, Rachel screamed long and loud. Chloe, still feeling queasy and with her head in a daze, handed Rachel the roasting stick. She knew the Ambers had plenty more, so losing one wouldn’t be a big deal. As expected, Rachel snatched it up and threw it into the trees with a yell.

“I can’t fucking _stand_ him!” she screamed, pacing around and looking for something else to smash or throw. Chloe wordlessly excused herself as Rachel continued to rage around the picnic table. She found the overturned trash can, placed it right side up, and then immediately threw up inside of it.

Either that had been some _strong_ shit or she was terrified out of her fucking mind. Probably both.

Chloe wiped off her mouth on her arm. She sat back at the picnic table, head still spinning. She only half-listened to Rachel while she stormed around and complained about her father.

“He’s just shitting on me because he loves you,” Chloe remembered saying at one point. Rachel just shook her head.

“Well, he needs to take his bullshit someplace else. Saying you’re _corrupting_ me and shit, like I didn’t have the choice to smoke myself? God, he’s so full of shit!” Suddenly, a particular, slightly unrelated detail suddenly resurfaced in Chloe’s addled brain.

Without thinking, she said, “You told him you love me.” Rachel shrugged, still angry.

“Yeah? Because I do.” Chloe shook her head.

“I think you just outed yourself for me,” she said. At this, Rachel finally stopped pacing. She stared for a long moment at nothing in particular.

“I guess I did,” she said finally. Her voice was soft. Chloe lifted a hand out to her.

“Come on,” she said gently, “let’s go to bed.” Sniffling, Rachel took her girlfriend’s hand and they headed upstairs. Their room was just across the hall from Rachel’s parents’. Chloe could hear them whispering, but she tried to ignore it as she walked into their room and shut the door behind her.

She and Rachel stripped down to their underclothes and got in bed. Rachel didn’t talk about her father for the rest of the night. She didn’t talk at all, really. Sometimes Chloe heard the occasional sniffle, knew that Rachel was still crying. Chloe pressed herself into Rachel’s back and traced her fingertips along her arms, trying to soothe her. Eventually, the sniffling stopped, and Rachel’s breathing became even. Chloe wrapped an arm around her waist and immediately fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Hence why they were in the situation they were right now, with Rachel grimly staring out the window and James’s knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.

“Honestly, I thought that was _it_ for you and your dad,” Real Chloe said with a sigh. They were somehow outside of the car as it cruised down the highway, floating along and watching the scene unfold. “I’d seen you two get into fights before, but I really thought this would be the last straw.” Rachel snorted.

“My dad’s too afraid of losing his perfect little girl. He was practically begging on his knees by the time we got back to Arcadia Bay.”

“I remember that,” Chloe said, sounding distant. “Instead of dropping me off at home, he insisted I stay for dinner, and then he apologized to us both. Said he overreacted.”

“Yeah, because I probably would have never spoken to him again if he hadn’t.” Rachel’s voice was a slight growl.

“Easy there, dragon,” Chloe said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “All in the past now, remember?” Rachel nodded.

“It just sucked,” she admitted. “I hate that part of my dad, him thinking he knows everything. Like keeping my birth mother a secret for fifteen years was good for me,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“He was just trying to protect you,” Chloe murmured, holding Rachel tighter.

“I know,” Rachel sighed, “but keeping me away from you is _not_ what’s best for me. _You’re_ what’s best for me.” A small smile spread on Chloe’s face, but something remained on her mind. A moment from that particular memory stuck with her, made her too curious for her own good.

“Rachel,” Chloe said finally.

“Hm?”

“Do you regret telling your dad how you felt about me?” Chloe paused, trying to think of the right way to articulate her thoughts. “I mean, do you think he knew, really knew what you meant when you said you loved me?”

“Hmm,” Rachel hummed.

“I mean, he never acted like we were together. Even when I ended up talking to him about you, after you got the procedure done, the most he said was that I ‘cared for’ you. Which like, I don’t know if that was dad code for ‘fucking you’.” Rachel laughed.

“I’m pretty sure that in the end, after I asked to have you erased, that he knew. I’d been so upset, and no one’s really that hung up on someone who was ‘just a friend’, you know? I think it _was_ easy for him to pretend we were only friends, because I couldn’t be the perfect daughter if I were in love with a gay delinquent.”

“Hey,” Chloe playfully retorted. Rachel smiled.

“I’m pretty positive a part of him knew how I felt about you, really felt about you, ever since that night. I think he just ignored it, like he did everything else that doesn’t fit into his perfect world.” Chloe shook her head.

“That kinda sucks,” she replied. “I mean, it’s one thing to at least acknowledge it, but another to just, like, pretend it isn’t happening.” Rachel shrugged.

“I didn’t lose anything from it. I still had you. That was all that mattered to me.” Chloe laughed.

“You really _do_ have poor taste in women,” she joked. Rachel playfully bumped her with her hip.

“Well, you're the only woman I want to taste, so get used to it.” Rachel indulged herself, leaning up to kiss Chloe. Chloe happily reciprocated.

“That honestly wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be,” Chloe said as they finally broke apart. “Watching that memory again. We got through it fine, just like you said.”

“See? We're unstoppable, Price. Nothing we can't do.” Chloe smiled, took Rachel’s hand.

They did indeed get through the tough memory, and they went through several more: troubled times, times of content, arguments, make-ups, celebrations, failures. They travelled to the moment where one of them had said they loved the other for the first time--it was Chloe, of course, accidentally thinking out loud like a total dork. They saw the moment where Chloe confessed her feelings for Rachel to a wonderfully understanding Steph. They’d glimpsed over their first time, up in Rachel’s room just a couple weeks after they’d met.

And soon, they were back at the beginning. The first three days they’d spent together.

“Shit,” Chloe muttered, panicked. “We're almost at the beginning already.” Rachel sensed the tension in her voice, in her posture. She reached across and took the other girl’s hand.

“It's okay,” she murmured. “It'll be okay.” Chloe glanced at her with wide eyes. Her throat felt dry.

The next memory began to build around them. Knick-knacks, machines, and abandoned vehicles littered the space around them. The air smelled coppery like rust. Chloe and Rachel’s alternates faced two men: one with sandy hair and tattoos wearing a baseball cap; the other with dark, gelled hair and gnarly scars to match the scowl on his face.

Frank and Damon.

“Fuck,” Spectating Chloe whispered, voice ragged.

“Shit,” Rachel agreed, her head hanging low. Chloe stepped forward, out of Rachel’s grasp.

“I can’t fucking watch you get stabbed,” she said, watching the scene before them with increasing horror.

“You have to,” Rachel whispered. Damon was mocking Past Rachel, calling her mother a whore, and Real Chloe was panicking because she knew what happened next.

“Rachel, no,” Chloe said, turning away from the scene. “I won’t see you get hurt again. I _won’t_.” She had turned away, but the scene simply shifted in front of her. It was like when she tried to leave her room and found that the memory wouldn’t let her. She had to forget, and to forget, she had to remember. She had to relive.

“Damn it!” Chloe screamed.

“It’s okay,” Rachel murmured. Her past counterpart was reaching for the board, heaving it up into the air. Chloe turned around, and again, the scene shifted. It refused to be ignored.

“FUCK,” Chloe shouted. Rachel tried to grab her hand, but Chloe was frantic.

“Babe--” Rachel started, but even she was startled by the scene in front of her. Her fifteen-year-old self slammed the two by four onto Damon with all of her might. Damon and Frank went tumbling into the dirt. Something metallic glinted in the sun as it sailed through the air and landed by the wayside. A knife.

Last time, Chloe had been too scared to do anything. This time, she _couldn’t_ do anything. No matter how badly she wanted it. She was a ghost watching her life flash before her eyes.

Rachel grunted, ran toward Damon as he crawled toward her. She tried to slam the board onto his head, but Damon grabbed it as it sailed through the air.

Chloe knew it wasn’t real, but she couldn’t stop herself all the same. She closed her eyes, and she saw it still.

Using his free hand, Damon took the knife from the ground. He plunged it into Rachel’s arm.

Chloe screamed.


	11. A mess of sadness and phobias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe relives one of the worst moments of her life. Rachel is there to help her through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowwie wow wow. This chapter was a long time coming, huh? There are a few things that contributed to that. One, I wasn't sure which direction I wanted to take this as far as blending the canon. I'm not crazy about stories that simply write what we already know happened, so I tried to keep that to a minimum.
> 
> Second, the whole ~real life~ thing. I won't get too much into that, because no one comes to read a fan fiction for real life. Ha. But anyway, here it is! Chapter 11. Still projected to have an ending in about the next four chapters or so. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Let me know what you think! :D

Chloe sat with her head in her hands, attempting to hide her tear-stained face from the hospital passerby.

Yeah, she'd known Rachel for probably a grand total of 48 hours, but it was enough. Chloe had known it all along; she’d suppressed the thought when the blonde bubbled up in head late at night, when she found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her. Now that Rachel was in danger, now that she might never see her again… She knew. Rachel had become the center of her universe, and now she was unconscious, bleeding out on an operating table. If Rachel didn’t make it… Chloe’s universe would fold upon itself, collapse, and cease to exist.

Current Chloe sat wrapped in Rachel’s arms, sobs wracking her slender frame. She’d witnessed it all before, but that didn’t make it any easier a second time around. The sound of the air being sucked from Rachel’s lungs, the coppery smell, the wet spatter of blood… She couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from her throat when she watched Rachel stagger around, her face quickly draining of color. Tears ran down her cheeks as she watched herself gingerly slide Rachel into place on the passenger’s side, as Rachel barely managed to breathe her name before everything went dark.

Now her past self was sitting, waiting, hoping with every fiber of her being that the other girl was okay. Chloe told herself she had to be--Rachel was a force of nature, a whirlwind of a girl who raged like the flames of the fire she’d accidentally started.

Real Chloe, the one who’d been forced to see it all again, already knew the answer. She knew that Rachel would walk away with just a scar and a crazy story. But it didn’t the whole shitty thing hurt any less, and she couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked her body. Rachel held her tight, ran her fingers through her hair. She murmured reassurances in her ear, but the tears wouldn't cease.

The problem was, Chloe absolutely hated herself for that moment of weakness. She knew that Rachel forgave her--even ‘forgive’ was too strong of a word, as Rachel never thought there’d been a transgression. Still, Chloe had never quite come to terms with the junkyard brawl herself. It was her weakest moment, and all she wanted to do was forget it. Obviously, fate wouldn’t let her.

She just couldn't believe she'd fucked up so badly. If she'd just done _something_ … distracted Damon, thrown a rock at his head. Jumped in front of Rachel, pulled her away from behind. Hell, if she’d started a fucking conga line, it would have been better than just standing there, mouth open like a total idiot.

Despite Chloe’s inability to form a coherent sentence, Rachel understood. She herself was teary-eyed, still stunned at witnessing her brush with death, but she continued to whisper to the blue-haired girl.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said gently. “I was being reckless, like always… That had _nothing_ to do with you, Chloe.” Chloe still wouldn’t answer; she simply sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, face hidden in her arms while she continued to cry.

“You _know_ this had nothing to do with you,” Rachel continued, “and even still, you saved my life.” She paused, allowing the weight of her words settle onto Chloe’s trembling shoulders. “Chloe Price. You saved my fucking life.”

Finally, Chloe forced out a semblance of a sentence, but Rachel couldn’t quite catch it.

“What’d you say?” she asked, holding Chloe tighter still. Chloe lifted her head, her face bright red and shiny with tears, and Rachel’s chest ached. She gently ran her thumbs along her cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears. When Chloe finally did speak, instead of electing to look at her companion, she stared straight ahead with her jaw clenched tight.

“What if I didn’t?” she finally whispered.

“What?” Rachel asked, still not understanding. Chloe shook her head, impatient.

“Save you.” She swallowed hard. “What if I didn’t?” Rachel truly had to put in effort to stay patient.

“The ‘what-ifs’ don’t matter, Chloe. _I_ made a stupid mistake, and _you_ were there to bail me out. _You were there_. That’s what matters.”

“I should have done more,” Chloe replied through gritted teeth. “I should have done anything… it should have been me.” At this, Rachel was truly aghast.

“Chlo--what are you saying?” she asked, a slight edge of panic in her voice.

“I…” Chloe swallowed hard, continued staring into the distance. “I don’t know,” she huffed finally. “I just know that I’m a fuck-up and you’re not, and that if our roles were reversed, you would have _done_ something. You would’ve protected me.”

“Chloe--”

“Seriously. The second Damon Merrick even _touched_ me, you were shoving him away, daring him to even think about it. And I--” Chloe gave an acerbic laugh. “I just let you fucking get stabbed, Rach.”

“I told you, Chloe: none of that was your fault. You can’t keep beating yourself up over something that had nothing to do with you!”

“I can’t? I mean, I’ve been doing a pretty good job of it so far. I never forgot how much I let you down and I’m…” Chloe sighed. Her shoulders shook. “I’m the last person who should be by your side, Rachel. I couldn’t protect you then, I couldn’t protect you even just re-watching the damn thing. I am... bad shit waiting to happen." Another bitter laugh. “You were right to erase me.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Rachel finally interjected, “ _shut up._ ” Her voice serious was enough to give Chloe pause.

“Seriously, Chlo. We all fuck up sometimes. As much as I pretend to be, you _know_ I’m not perfect like no one else does. You’re not perfect, either, we both know that. But I’ll tell you again, because you seemed to have forgotten: you saved my fucking life. I’ll tell you as many times as I have to to get it through your thick punk skull.” Rachel shook her head. “Maybe you fucked up at the moment, I don’t know, but what you did after… and everything else you’ve done for me since then is what’s important. This whole Damon Merrick thing is just a microscopic fucking speck of dirt.”

“Then why?” Chloe cried, finally making eye contact with the girl beside her. “If it’s just a speck of dirt, why can’t I forget about it? Why can’t I just fucking get over it?” Chloe pounded the ground with her fist, and Rachel frowned, hesitated for a moment.

Finally, she spoke, her voice soft. “Do you really think you’re not good enough for me, just because you made one shitty mistake?”

“What?” Chloe asked, slightly alarmed.

“That’s what I’m getting from what you said,” Rachel gently replied. “That because you couldn’t protect me one time--which you did, actually, let me remind you again--that I should’ve told you to piss out of my life?”

“I--” Chloe began, only to realize that, for once, she didn’t have anything to say back. Rachel stroked her cheek.

“It’s okay, babe. Like I said: we all make mistakes. Honestly, if we based our relationship on the number of mistakes I made alone, we would’ve been over as soon as we’d began.” She laughed lightly. “You can’t keep being so hard on yourself for one thing you did wrong; you can’t keep thinking you don’t deserve me because of one slip-up.”

“I can’t?” Chloe asked again, though her voice was much gentler this time. There was none of her typical sarcasm. Rachel shook her head, smiled at the girl in her arms.

“Chloe. Can I tell you a secret?” Chloe swallowed hard again before managing to utter a ‘what’. Rachel continued.

“Even if you didn’t deserve me, it wouldn’t matter. You’re all I want.” Chloe tried to ignore the ache in her chest, tried to will herself not to cry again. How had she not run out of tears?

“So please,” Rachel spoke again, “stop beating yourself up about this. If not for yourself, then… for me.” The dropout stared, thinking. Their surroundings had changed without either of them noticing; the Amber family patriarch sat beside Chloe, gently asking her about the encounter with Damon. She heard words from him that just the night before, she thought she would only hear in a dream:

“You have saved my world,” James Amber said, his voice soft but firm. Kind of like Rachel’s.

“Yeah.” Chloe finally spoke, rubbing at the last of her tears. “Stop beating myself up. I can do that.” Rachel sighed. Chloe could see the tension ease from her shoulders. She felt like a dick for having made her worry so much.

“Sorry I’ve been such a shithead,” she mumbled.

“‘Sokay.” Rachel smiled. “You’re always worth it.”

And now Chloe of the past was stepping into Rachel’s hospital room. Rachel gently dismissed her father from watching over her as Chloe shyly stepped forward, barely able to hold the other girl’s gaze.

“You were so nervous,” Rachel murmured as she watched their past companions. “Almost like you were scared that I wouldn’t want to see you or something.”

“I _was_  scared,” Chloe muttered. “I was still mad at myself. I thought you’d be mad at me.” Past Chloe sat on the edge of Past Rachel’s bed, where Rachel immediately reached for Chloe’s hands.

“On the contrary, Price. I’d never been happier to see anyone in my life.” And Chloe could see it, as the two sat on Rachel’s hospital bed, never breaking eye contact or letting go of the other girl’s hands as they softly spoke to one another. She saw it in her unusual vulnerability as she admitted her fear of never seeing Rachel again. She saw it in the way Rachel pled with Chloe to find her birth mother for her. There was something there that couldn’t be ignored. A genuineness, true affection. Rachel had never blamed Chloe for what happened. Why should Chloe?

The hospital room began to change, though not as drastically as Chloe expected. In fact, all of the objects--the heart monitor, the television, the chair beside the bed--and walls remained; the only thing that differed was the quality of light. Night had fallen, and Rachel’s modified star light was the only illumination in the room. Past Chloe now sat on a chair beside an expectant Rachel, debating if she should tell her all she knew...

She lied. She knew the lengths James had gone to in order to silence Rachel’s birth mother, Sera, but Sera was right. If she had told Rachel the truth, she would’ve despised James for the rest of her life. She couldn’t do that to Rachel, even if it meant becoming yet another shitty person Rachel couldn’t trust.

It was odd, how easy it had been for Chloe to forgive herself for this transgression. Sure, she sometimes felt guilt bubble up in her chest at Amber family dinners, but Chloe would take that guilt one hundred times over if it meant protecting Rachel. She couldn’t protect her from Damon, but she sure as fuck could protect her from James. And that’s what she would do.

“It sucks that you weren’t able to find her,” Rachel murmured, watching teary-eyed Past Chloe confess she had failed her. “Even then, I still had hope that we’d be able to track her down…”

“I know,” Chloe said softly, rubbing the small of Rachel’s back. Rachel chuckled. It was truly a sad sound.

“I know it’s a little silly,” she began, “but… part of me is still hoping that she wants to see me. And that even if I can’t find her, she’ll find me. Somehow.” Another small laugh. “I know I’m not supposed to tell or my wishes won’t come true, but… every birthday since I’ve found out about her, that’s all I’ve wished for. On every candle, every shooting star...” Rachel swallowed hard. “I just want to know her, Chloe.”

“I know,” Chloe said again. And there it was, churning up her stomach, drying her throat, making her chest hurt. The guilt. Even though she knew was bound to forget everything, even though she knew that none of this was real, she still couldn’t tell Rachel. She had decided, that night in the hospital, to bear the burden.

“Ha. I was going to make you promise to be there when I finally met her, but I got so caught up in this whole thing that I forgot it’s not even happening. None of this is really happening,” Rachel said quietly, her head hanging ever so slightly. Chloe lifted the other girl’s chin with a finger.

“Hey now,” Chloe said softly, “just like you said: just because it’s not real doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

“I know. Just a little bummed, I guess.”

“Me too,” Chloe admitted. She must have looked more forlorn than she realized, for Rachel nudged her with her shoulder and flashed her a smile.

“Hey. No more moping around.”

“You started it,” Chloe muttered.

“I did. But now I’m finishing it. Onto the next memory!” Rachel declared.

“I don’t think that’s how it works?” Chloe half stated, half asked, but what did she know; almost at Rachel’s behest, the memory around them began to shift and change shape. Rachel smirked at her counterpart, raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, Rachel. You control the universe.” The blue-haired teen gave the other girl a shove, and she giggled.

They were back in the junkyard now. Chloe’s first reaction was slight panic; had something gone wrong with her memories? Was she going to have to see Rachel get stabbed a _third_ time? Her fears were soon assuaged as she saw herself lying in her truck. Her beat-up sneakers rested in Rachel’s lap while she laid her head on the seat. It took a moment, but Chloe recognized this memory as the therapy session Rachel had suggested following Chloe’s expulsion.

“Now that I’m thinking of it,” Chloe said aloud, watching her past self, “why didn’t I rest my head in your lap? Was I an idiot or what?” Rachel laughed.

“ _Probably_ a little too forward. Not that I would have minded,” she added with a wink.

“God, you’re so hot,” Chloe said before she could stop herself. Rachel leaned in, quickly closed the distance between them with her lips.

“Right back at you,” she replied after they pulled apart. Chloe thought she would’ve been used to this by now, the compliments and the flirtation, but sometimes the actress still managed to throw her for a loop. Chloe could feel the heat creep into her cheeks.

Parallel to them, as part of their therapy session, Past Rachel admitted that a girl “who was also a knock-out in the looks department” was changing her life. Chloe’s blush only deepened.

“I really trusted you, Chloe Price,” Rachel revealed, watching her past self with a hint of amusement. “And not just because you promised not to tell when I, y’know, accidentally started a forest fire.”

“How _could_ I tell anyone? I would’ve been next on your hitlist.”

“Ha ha. _So_ funny.” The blonde swatted at the dropout’s arm, and she laughed.

“Really, though,” Rachel began, “there are so many people who want to get to know me just because I’m _Rachel Amber._  Which sounds conceited as hell, I know, but I never got that feeling from you. I felt like I didn’t have to pretend with you… You were just so _real_. It made me open up about my dad and all of his shit even though we hardly knew each other.” The heat in Chloe’s cheeks hadn’t fully dissipated, and Rachel’s sudden confession  wasn’t helping.

“I know,” Chloe eventually murmured. “Maybe it was just because I was so used to being alone that it felt… nice, having someone to talk to.” She shook her head. “But it was more than that. I mean, there was Steph, Trevor, Justin… They were my friends, too, but something about you was different.” The blonde smiled.

“I’m glad you trusted me,” she said, the content grin still on her lips. Chloe had to smile back.

“Me too,” she admitted. Past Rachel leaned into Past Chloe, who rested her head atop Rachel’s. Their real selves mimicked their position as they sat on the junkyard floor, watching themselves. Eventually, Rachel received a message beckoning her to Blackwell. She turned away, ready to leave, but then paused, slowly asked if she and Chloe could do something after the show. Just the two of them.

“Damn, you were sprung on me!” Chloe exclaimed. “How did I not realize this?” She expected Rachel to give her a little shove or swat at her, but she didn’t.

“Chloe… I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, but… you can be really dense sometimes.”

“What?” Chloe said, bewildered. “Me, dense?”

“As a fruitcake.”

“Is that a gay joke?”

“If you want it to be.”

Past Rachel had just departed after leaving her some of her clothes, and the world around them began to fade. Soon, string lights floated above them, and the smell of a freshly cut lawn drifted into Chloe’s senses. Teenagers in elaborate costumes milled about, some muttering Shakespeare under their breaths, others making final adjustments to their outfits. Though the scene itself was serene enough, a sense of dread washed over the blue-haired girl as she realized--

“I’m going to have to watch myself act. _Fuck_.” Rachel laughed wholeheartedly.

“Is that bad?”

“ _Is that bad?_ Is what happened to the Titanic _bad_? Is climate change _bad_?”

“Oh my god, Chloe. You were absolutely amazing. You nailed the stage directions, you slayed your lines… even the improvised ones, may I add.”

“That’s only because I wasn’t acting that that point. This rest of my performance was an absolute dumpster fire.” Rachel nudged the other girl with her shoulder.

“Hey, you need to give yourself more credit. The fate of our _entire production_ was on your _slender shoulders."_  Chloe couldn’t help but laugh.

“God, Keaton’s such a weirdo.”

“Honestly, every theater teacher is. It’s kind of in the job description.”

They stood backstage, taking in the sights as Victoria ducked out of the tent that doubled as the girls’ dressing room. Past Chloe had slipped in, unnoticed, right behind her. Rachel’s eyes lit up.

“Oh shit! This is when you save my ass!”

“It’s a nice ass. Definitely worth saving.”

At that point, the two girls had only known each other for a grand total of about 24 hours, but they were so in sync it felt like they’d known each other years; Chloe quickly made up a lie to distract Victoria, and despite Chloe not saying much, Rachel seemed to understand that something was off.

“It sounds like Mr. Keaton is calling for you,” Rachel said, the lie coming to her easily. Victoria dismissed herself, leaving the newly acquainted teens alone.

“What’s going on?” Rachel had asked, nudging Chloe. Chloe produced an orange bottle filled with muscle relaxers from her back pocket.

“Bitch dosed your tea,” she explained, giving the bottle a little shake. Rachel rolled her hazel eyes.

“That is… the least surprising thing ever.” She paused. “What should we do?” Chloe stared down at the pills in the hand, contemplating. Then, with a smirk, she switched the tea cups.

“Problem solved,” Chloe said, still grinning triumphantly.

“Have I ever told you how utterly brilliant you are?” Current Rachel asked, taking Chloe’s hand in her own. Chloe smiled.

“I could stand to hear it a little more often.” Rachel giggled, and to Chloe’s surprise, obliged her.

“You are _brilliant,_ ” the actress said, still grinning radiantly.

Chloe couldn’t refute that, especially when she watched Victoria pick up her teacup. Rachel improvised a beautiful speech about friendship and how glad she was to have met Victoria. And then Victoria unknowingly drank a piping hot cup of muscle relaxers, and everything was wonderful.

That was, until, they heard Mr. Keaton’s cry of distress from the tent. The two girls found themselves wandering back outside. The oddly over-the-top man stood on stage while a gaggle of costume-clad teens gathered near him. He delivered the tragic news that Juliet would be too late to make the show and that they might have to cancel _The Tempest_ altogether.

“Truly, we are a cursed lot,” he said, and Spectating Rachel began to mimic him, mouthing his words and making ridiculous gestures. Chloe laughed. “Even my prodigious imagination cannot conceive a worse turn of fate.”

Chloe sure could think of something, and right on cue, Victoria began to speak.

“Mr. Kreaton,” the pixie cut blonde offered, “I have _revelations_ to _reveal._ ” She swayed where she stood, her words slurred almost beyond comprehension. Past Chloe and Past Rachel exchanged looks, and Victoria violently turned their way. “Rachel Amber is on _drugs,_ ” the short-haired blonde declared. “Look at her! Her face is so blurry… and pretty?”

“This is _just_ as amazing the second time around,” said Rachel.

“‘Blurry and pretty’? She is _so_ damn gay for you,” Chloe added.

“Well honestly… who isn’t?” Rachel asked, winking. Chloe pretended to gag, and Rachel laughed. Victoria kept talking, completely unaware of the girls laughing at her expense.

“She’s clearly been _drugged_ ,” she went on. Through all the muscle relaxers, it took her a moment to realize that she had inadvertently outed herself. “I mean, drugged _herself_ ,” she corrected, “She _loves_ drugs. Don’t you?”

Without a further word, Victoria Chase crumpled to the ground. Dana gasped, dropped to her knees, and listened for Victoria’s heartbeat.

“Bless Dana. At least she tried,” Chloe said, amused. Past Rachel was far less concerned, simply trying not to laugh.

“Touche, fates,” conceded Mr. Keaton. “Touche.”

All smiles, Past Rachel slowly stepped back toward an unsuspecting Chloe.

“...What?” Past Chloe had asked. Then, seeing the mischief in Rachel’s eyes, added, “Oh no. _No_ fucking chance.”

 “And this is where you ruin my life,” Current Chloe muttered.

“I think you mean _significantly enhance_ ,” Rachel corrected. The blue-haired girl didn’t laugh. Neither did her past companion, who found herself in a feather-covered leotard, full-on stage make-up, and a horrendous black beak.

 “Damn it,” both Chloes muttered under their breaths. Rachel laughed.

“Aww, c’mon, don’t be like that,” she said, squeezing Chloe’s hand. “Now you’ll finally get to see what everyone else saw in you that night.”

“A brand new, skinny-ass drop-out trying not to throw up on herself? Cool.” 

Almost as if on cue, Past Chloe grumbled, “I can’t believe Rachel’s making me do this.”

“I agree with her,” Chloe said, pointing a thumb back at herself. Her other self was flicking through the script, desperately trying to memorize her lines. “You’re lucky I’m hella whipped.” Again, Rachel chuckled.

“Never thought I’d hear Chloe Price say the words ‘I’m whipped.’ I’m truly grateful to be alive right now.”

“Let’s see how you feel after I watch this _Tempest_ shit again.” Sure enough, their surroundings slowly rippled, and soon their eyes were flooded with light as they appeared on stage. The past Rachel, clad in her ornate Prospera costume, bade Dana’s character to sleep, and Mr. Keaton rasped in Past Chloe’s ear.

It was time to take the stage.


	12. Exactly where I want to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises of the past and promises for the future collide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up, fam, as the hip kids say. You guys were a little quiet last chapter! I'm having fun though, and I hope you are, too. Let me know what I can work on or what you like as we come to a wrap!

Dark grey clouds poured in torrents upon a raging sea. One of its many victims was the splintered remnants of a once majestic ship; only the tattered hull had made it as far as the shore. Before the rotting wood stood a magnificent sorceress clad in black and red and gold. She stamped her impressive staff upon the ground before her as she beckoned her servant to her side.

A tall, blonde girl in a black leotard stumbled onto the stage. The first thing she noticed was the harsh light of the stage lights above; she almost reached up a hand to shade her eyes, but remembered that the gaudy beak on her head was in the way. Countless silhouettes sat in the audience, and though she could not see their faces, she knew their eyes were on her. She swallowed hard, felt her hands start to tremor.

Feeling a particular set of eyes burning into her, she looked up and across the stage without thinking. It was the sorceress opposite her, who gave her a gentle smile and a quick, reassuring nod. The servant responded with an uneasy smile more akin to a grimace.

She was going to be garbage, that was for sure. But maybe at least she could say she tried and be Rachel’s garbage? She opened her mouth and words began to tumble out.

An alternate version of the girl, two years older but still just as horrid an actress, covered her eyes with both hands. Watching herself not quite act was better than seeing the love of her life get stabbed, but not by much. Her past self recited her first line, and she could feel her face flush with heat.

Chloe felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. Soon, another hand took hers from her face and squeezed it. Chloe squeezed her eyes shut, still covering her other eye, which garnered a laugh from her girlfriend.

“Come _on,_  Chloe. You’re not that bad,” Rachel said, still giggling. The blue-haired girl vigorously shook her head.

“‘Not that bad’ doesn’t mean good,” she retorted. Her memory-hopping counterpart rolled her green-brown eyes.

“Chloe, you were… fucking wonderful,” she said, throwing her hands up in defeat. “ _Now_ will you watch?”

“Fuck no.”

“Don’t make me _make you_ , Chloe Price.” The only eyebrow Rachel could see lifted.

“‘Make me’ as in, you know… _make me_?” Chloe asked sounding sly. Yet again, Rachel rolled her eyes to the stage lights above.

“‘Make you’ as in…” Suddenly, arms were around Chloe’s waist, dragging her to the ground. Chloe swore as Rachel giggled. They both fell on the stage, the smaller girl on top of the taller one.

“All right, fuck you,” Chloe huffed.

“You want to?” Rachel asked, smirking. “In front of all these people? Could be kinda hot.” Without thinking, Chloe licked her lips.

“They can’t see us,” she said finally, her voice sounding smaller than she would have liked. The model’s grin only grew.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t see them. Still a thrill.” Chloe swallowed hard.

“You are… into some _shit,_  Rachel Amber.” The aforementioned girl laughed.

“Seriously, though,” she began, adjusting her position on her girlfriend. Reflexively, Chloe wound her arms around the other’s girl’s waist. “I adored acting alongside you. I know theater’s not your thing, but…”

“…But?” Chloe asked after a moment, as Rachel had stopped speaking. The blue-haired girl looked up at the blonde, and something in her immediately lurched when she saw the look on her face.

“Rachel?” she asked slowly, taking in the girl’s wide eyes and slight frown.

“Sera?”

Rachel’s voice was so soft that if Chloe weren’t underneath her, she wouldn’t have heard it.

“Sera?” echoed Chloe. Rachel pushed herself up from her girlfriend, rose slowly to her feet as though she were in a dream. Her girlfriend sat up as well, watching her stare into the distance.

“Sera,” Rachel breathed again. Chloe bolted to her feet, cast her gaze over the audience. The stage lights made it pretty difficult to see anything, but she could see a woman in a white dress standing at the back of the audience. Chloe remembered seeing her earlier that day, outside of Frank’s trailer, and how she’d been wearing a simple white dress. She also knew, from her one meeting with the elusive woman, that she had, in fact, come to see Rachel in the play. Still, the lights made it too difficult for Chloe to tell if the woman in question truly was Rachel’s birth mother.

“Are you sure that’s her?” Chloe asked, her voice hushed. She didn’t remember actually seeing her in the audience, but if her brain filled in that particular detail, she must have seen the woman at some point without realizing it. That was a big if, though, and she didn’t want Rachel to get her hopes up.

“It has to be her. I… I looked her up after everything, practically stalked her. I’ve seen the pictures.” Rachel gave a nervous little laugh. “She even looks like me, Chlo. Or I guess, I look like her.” Chloe frowned.

“It’s just a little tough to tell from here. Don’t you think?” Rachel shook her head, adamant.

“It’s her, Chloe… She…” Rachel swallowed hard. “She found out about _The Tempest._ She came to see me,” she finished in a whisper.

“Rach—“ Chloe began, but Rachel wouldn’t be stopped. She rushed forward, about to slide off the stage, when she found that her feet wouldn’t go any further than the edge.

“The hell?”

She stuck out a hand, only to find that the air around it would flex ever so slightly before bouncing back. It looked as though everything outside of the stage were covered in saran wrap.

“What the _fuck?_ ” Rachel cried. She banged a fist into the air, which stretched with her and then gently bounced her fist back.. Chloe simply watched with her mouth open, bewildered. Chloe knew that wasn’t allowed to leave the boundaries of any given memory, but for some reason, she never thought Rachel would be bound to the same limitations. As she watched Rachel tried to overcome the barrier, though, she understood that the rules applied to Rachel just as much as they did to herself.

Rachel released a howl of frustration before glancing around the stage. Her eyes came to rest on one of the boulders that rested on the side of the stage.

“Rachel,” Chloe quickly said, her eyes widening in panic. “Rachel, that is _not_ a good idea--” she began, but the other girl was already heaving up the boulder. “Rachel!” Chloe screamed one last time, and then the boulder was sailing through the air. Unimpeded by any strange memory barrier, it simply flew into the audience unnoticed and disappeared.

Rachel screamed.

Chloe had seen Rachel this way before. Not often enough that her wrath still scared her, but often enough to know what she could be calmed. It was mostly a matter of waiting until she tired herself out. The only problem was that Rachel could be pretty problematic until then, as Chloe had found their first night together when Rachel set a forest aflame.

“Sera!” Rachel cried. “Sera! It’s me, Rachel!” There was no response from the woman in the white dress.

A pause, then Rachel switched tactics: “Mom!” she yelled instead. Chloe continued to watch, a sinking sensation in her belly. She already knew that Rachel’s efforts were futile. No matter how she pleaded or screamed, if she threw things into the audience, Sera from the memory wouldn’t be able to hear her. Rachel seemed to have forgotten again and lost herself in the memories, believing that they were more than ghosts and that this was more than a dream.

“Mom!” she cried again, pounding against the strange invisible barrier. “Mom, _please_! Mom!” Rachel only stopped when she felt a gentle touch to her shoulder: Chloe. She whipped around, saw the look on Chloe’s face, and scowled.

“ _Don’t_ look at me like that,” she growled.

“Like what?”

“Like you… like you _pity_ me.” Chloe swallowed hard. Why was her throat so damn dry?

“Rachel—” she started, but Rachel turned back to the audience, turning her back on her girlfriend.

“ _Don’t_ , okay?” Her shoulders slumped forward. “Just… don’t.” Before Chloe even had time to process it, Rachel was on the ground, crying into her hands. The churning in Chloe’s stomach rose higher, became a dull throb in her chest.

She wanted to say something but… what? What could she say to Rachel finally seeing her birth mother, only to not be able to speak to her?

She sat down beside Rachel but left some space between them, knowing that Rachel’s outburst surely wasn’t over. She looked down at her hands, the audience, anywhere but her… After letting a moment or two pass, she moved the slightest bit closer, draped an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. She took it as a good sign that Rachel didn’t throw it off.

Rachel cried while her alternate strode around the stage, her eyes sparkling. She was truly in her element, so happy and hopeful… so unlike Rachel now. She felt Rachel shake next to her, torn that she had come so close to meeting her mother. Chloe thought of the sole meeting she’d had with Sera.

She could tell her the truth.

She could tell her about how her father had paid off a drug dealer—the same one who had stabbed her—to remove Sera from the picture. She could reveal that how no matter how badly Sera had wanted to see her daughter that she didn’t think she deserved to meet her. She could say that that Sera pleaded with her not to tell her daughter the truth before disappearing from her life.

She could go back on the promise she’d made to herself in hopes that maybe, just maybe, it would help Rachel get past this…

“Rachel,” Chloe said softly, slowly. She was unsure of herself, even more so when Rachel refused to lift her head. “Please,” Chloe whispered. “It’s important.” After a sniffle or two, the blonde raised her head, looked at Chloe through watery red eyes.

“Rachel… about your mom…” Chloe began. Was she really going to do this? She paused, just to look at Rachel. Saw the raw hurt in her russet eyes. Swallowed hard, her decision made.

“Rachel,” she said resolutely, taking the other girl’s hands in hers, “we will find Sera. Together. Okay?” Rachel held her gaze for just a moment before shaking her head and turning away. Chloe gently guided Rachel’s chin back toward her.

“I’m serious, Rach. We are going to find Sera.”

“ _How_?” Rachel shot back. “This is all… a fucking _dream_ , and I still can’t reach her.”

“I know. I know,” Chloe said softly. “It’s because this is a fucked-up mind-game rigged against us. But out… there,” Chloe pointed vaguely, “in real life, we can do it. We _will_ do it. We’ll find Sera.” Rachel shook her head again, and a couple errant tears fell from her eyes.

“We already tried, Chloe. You already tried, and you couldn’t find her.” Chloe wanted to object, but didn’t know how without revealing that she _had_ found Sera. Chloe was grateful when Rachel continued speaking. “Besides, she probably left Arcadia Bay ages ago. I have no idea where she is now.”

“Then we bring her to us! We find a way, we make it work.” Rachel shook her head again.

“Even if we could… Chloe, none of this is real. You, me, this… fucking stage.” Rachel glared at the invisible barrier between her and her mother. “It’s all made-up, and it’ll be gone as soon as you wake up in the morning.”

Rachel felt a soft but reassuring brush against her cheek, a thumb wiping away her tears. When she looked back at the girl beside her, saw the look of complete tenderness on her face, she felt her heart throb.

“Rach, it’s okay.” She gave Rachel the softest smile she had ever seen, and Rachel didn’t stop herself when she found herself leaning into her arms. She rested her head on the blue-haired girl’s shoulder, felt the tension in her body melt away as Chloe wound an arm around her. She felt fingers slowly comb through her hair, and her eyes closed on reflex.

“It’s okay,” Chloe murmured again. “This mind-fuck isn't really happening, but this moment is still inportant. So important that… I’ll remember. I have to, even if there’s nothing else I can remember about us…” Rachel laughed, but it was more good-natured than either of them had expected.

“You sound like you’re making a promise you can’t keep, Chloe Price,” she murmured into Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe released a breath she didn’t realize that she was holding, looked up at their alternates. Rachel was bent on one knee, Chloe’s hands in hers. She was off-script at this point, asking Chloe to stay by her side.

“I’ll seek to make thy happiness so great that e’en the name of liberty’s forgot,” she said, hazel eyes sparkling, and Chloe knew then that she wasn’t acting. They were on stage in front of strangers, wearing silly costumes, and it was the realest moment of her life.

“Stand up,” True Chloe said suddenly. Rachel pulled from her embrace ever so slightly. She looked pretty confused. “Stand up,” Chloe repeated, serious as ever. Her eyes narrowed slightly, Rachel slowly got to her feet. All of the suspicion she felt faded instantly as she saw Chloe shift onto one knee.

“What sayest thou to my most hopeful wish?” Rachel’s alternate asked as Chloe took Rachel’s hands in hers.

“I promise you, Rachel Amber,” she began. “It won’t be today or tomorrow, but… if you don’t mind waiting… if you could be a little patient for me, I’ll find her, find Sera. Even if I forget about all of this, I swear to you: I will make it happen.”

“Say yes!” called someone in the audience. Past Chloe smiled at the same instant Current Rachel did. When Chloe breathlessly murmured, “Yes,” Rachel gave a joyous little laugh, a half cry, and said, “Okay.” Chloe stood up, they embraced, and the audience went wild. And sure, they were applauding their alternates, but it felt a little like the audience was applauding their current selves, too.

Rachel leaned up and kissed Chloe quickly but sweetly.

“You know… even if you forget me, and you can’t remember our promise… I won’t be mad.” Chloe looked back at her with a steely gaze. “Really, Chloe. I can’t expect you to remember a promise that defies, like, science and time and space.”

“Well. Some things are more important than science and time and space.”

“Like our larger than life romance,” Rachel said with a wink.

“Absolutely,” Chloe replied with a laugh. And in potentially the most timely transition yet, the two teens found themselves on the quiet streets of Rachel’s neighborhood, street lights twinklinking above them.

“THE KISS,” Rachel gasped, her eyes wide, a huge grin on her face. Chloe laughed even harder.

“ _The kiss,_ ” she echoed, wagging her eyebrows. Rachel giggled. Their alternate selves were laughing, too, mimicking the drama teacher and sharing their relief about the successful show.

“You were--” Past Chloe began.

“No, _you_ ,” Rachel cut her off. “Like, seriously. Ugh, I _love_ nights after a show.”

“Is it always like this?” Chloe had asked, watching Rachel bounce onto the curb.

“Oh, _totally_. It’s such a high! No more nerves, just the adrenaline.”

“You were so happy after that show,” Chloe noted as they watched themselves beneath the lamp light. “It was, like, infectious. Even though so much stupid shit was going on with Drew and Damon, getting kicked out of school, Pornstache moving in… You made everything feel okay.”

“So did you,” Rachel murmured. “After finding out that my parents had _lied_ to me my entire life… after finding out about Sera... I mean, I even got stabbed. But as soon as I saw you in my hospital room, it was like everything was all right. Everything was still shitty, but not so much when you were next to me.”

Chloe leaned down and claimed Rachel’s lips for her own. Rachel smiled into the kiss but soon gave into the heat behind it, sighing into Chloe’s mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt Chloe’s tongue in her mouth good god was it incredible. With Chloe’s hands roaming up and down her sides and her own fingers sneaking into Chloe’s waistband, they were _way_ ahead of their alternates; their younger versions, who had been utterly forgotten at this point, had just managed to hold hands. Chloe looked away shyly while Rachel looked directly at her, knowing that yes, she wanted this girl. It wasn’t just in a physical sense--she actually wanted to give the whole relationship thing a try even though they barely knew each other.

“Shit,” Real Chloe murmured, pulling away to catch her breath.

“I know,” Real Rachel mumbled back. She ran her fingertips over the skin just above Chloe’s sleeping shorts. “Really fucking want you right now.”

Chloe licked her lips.

“Same.”

Rachel pulled Chloe closer by her hips.

“This isn’t the place,” she added.

“Or the time,” Chloe whispered against her neck.

“This isn’t even real,” Rachel sighed as she tangled her fingers in Chloe’s hair.

“It’s not,” Chloe murmured into her collarbone.

But that didn’t stop their lips from meeting again, didn't stop them from sinking together into soft grass.

Their past selves came to a stop underneath the soft glow of one of the streetlights. Rachel giggled, twirled in the empty streets, and Chloe suddenly felt hollow.

“Rachel, stop.”

Rachel was saying all of these wonderful things about them escaping the bay, starting a new life together in L.A. and… it all had to be too good to be true. They didn't have money, complete high school educations...They didn't even know each other. Not really.

But that didn't make Chloe want it any less.

“If you don't mean this,” she said, ever so slightly nervous, “it's just making me feel like shit that this life you're describing isn't going to happen.”

Rachel rolled her eyes up to the night sky.

“For fuck’s sake!” she cried. “I've never been more serious in my _life._ ” They held hands in the middle of the street, spun around, giggled. Then Rachel asked the question that changed everything.

“What would it take to convince you?”

Even though she wanted to more than anything, Chloe couldn’t quite bring herself to kiss the other girl’s lips. But Rachel understood because she wanted her, too. Had been wanting her. She took Chloe’s hands and closed the distance between them. Their lips met, and the sensation was so different, so much _better_ than every other time either girl had felt it before. Chloe knew how cliche it sounded, but it truly felt like they were the only ones in the world, far away from the hell that was Arcadia Bay.

“Is _that_ convincing enough?” Rachel had asked, and before Chloe could fully answer, Rachel was pulling her back in. Kissing for what would be the first of hundreds, maybe thousands of times. Ash began to fall as they lost themselves in each other, one pair kissing for the first time, the other an uncountable number of times.

And everything was good.


	13. Come back and make up a goodbye (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all ends with the beginning. Chloe and Rachel revisit their first 24 hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not an April Fool's Day joke! I repeat, this is *not* an April Fool's Day joke! Because I never got the point of those.
> 
> Thank you so much for the feedback on the last chapter! It's lovely to get a pulse on where you guys are and how you feel about the story so far. :]
> 
> This next chapter was too long to be just one/I'd feel rushed putting out the whole thing at once, so it'll be two parts. So I guess we'll get an extra chapter before it's all over! Yayyyy.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you enjoyyyy.

Rachel shrugged her flannel back on while Rachel shrugged her flannel back on. One had just changed out of her costume for the school play taking place the next day; the other had finished something far less innocent but much needed.

The younger Rachel finished getting dressed, stepped from behind the screen that separated her from the other girl. Rachel looked her up and down, fully regarded her.

“Chloe Price,” she’d said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Rachel Amber?” Chloe Price said back, sounding confused more than anything. Rachel stepped closer.

“Last night was _amazing_ ,” she gushed. “To tell the truth, I went to bed last night wishing it never had to end.” She swept her hair behind her ear, revealing the ever-present blue feather. “But then I thought: why? Why does it have to end?” Chloe shuffled nervously before she spoke.

“Maybe it doesn’t. Have to end,” she offered.

“Exactly!” Rachel agreed, clearly thrilled with the Chloe’s response. She grinned wide when she next spoke. “How would you like to join me on a little field trip?”

“A little field trip… that wound up getting me expelled,” Current Chloe said with a laugh. Since she'd only been wearing PJs, she had been much quicker to get dressed.  Now she sat up, watching the scene between their past selves unfold. Rachel hooked her belt through the loops on her jeans and fastened it.

“Sorry about that,” Rachel murmured, pulling Chloe closer.

“No need to apologize. It was a long time coming, and you got to stay Blackwell’s best honor student.”

“For which I _was_ appreciative,” Rachel admitted, “but you didn't have to take the fall for me.” Chloe snorted.

“Well, I was getting back more than I was giving up. Big Brother Wells, always stalking around and looking for excuses to throw me out… The generally lame student body… Plus the fact that all of my classes were full of busywork and total a waste of time. Honestly, I was doing myself a favor.” Rachel raised an eyebrow, questioning, and Chloe sighed.

“I mean… fine. It kinda sucks to say that I’m a high school drop-out, but whatever. Like I said, it was bound to happen. If I could help you in the process, then… why not?”

“You barely knew me,” Rachel quickly retorted. Chloe shrugged.

“You barely knew me when you invited me on your ‘field trip’. Which… why, by the way? Why did you invite me along to catch your dad cheating on your mom?” Rachel gave a short laugh, and Chloe suddenly realized the insensitivity of what she'd said. “Sorry,” she quickly amended. “I didn't mean to come off so--”

“It's fine,” Rachel said, chuckling. “I mean, it does sound silly, doesn’t it? We’d only spent one night together, but I invited you on this big, life-changing journey.” She paused, watched her past self take Chloe by the hand as they ran down Blackwell’s front steps.

“I guess part of me was hoping that my suspicions were for nothing. You know, that my dad would just be meeting up with an officer or something, and we really were just going on this fun, spontaneous adventure.” Another quick laugh, a bitter one. “Obviously, that wasn’t the case. But I guess I was also thinking that… if something bad really did happen, it’d be nice to have someone else be there. That maybe it would suck a bit less if someone were with me.”

“Yeah, but… why me?” Chloe asked, because she still didn’t understand. “You’re friends with, like, every single person at Blackwell. You didn’t have to settle for the girl with the dead dad.”

“Wasn’t settling,” Rachel corrected, “and like I said before, I knew you were genuine. With all of the phony shit going on in my life, I needed someone real. I needed you.” Chloe gave a humorless laugh.

“Well, you’re stuck with me now, I guess.” Rachel smiled, leaned into the blue-haired girl beside her.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, Price.” They were content to stay that way for a while, watching their youthful counterparts slip off to a nearby set of train tracks. Chloe chuckled as she watched herself get suckered into hopping a freight train, a feat that only Rachel Amber could accomplish.

“I knew you would follow me that day,” Rachel said as an aside. Past Chloe was tagging the inside of the train while Past Rachel sat on a crate, content to watch the forest pass them by. “Maybe because anyone I asked probably would have followed. Would’ve wanted the chance to kiss my ass a bit.”

“I wasn’t trying to kiss your ass,” Chloe obstinately replied. Rachel smiled.

“I know. And you weren’t trying to when you got expelled for me, either.” The blonde paused again, watched their alternates. Past Chloe was struggling to think of something to say, stammering and scratching at the back of her head. The blue-haired girl  had grown so much since then, but there was something so charming at how nervous Chloe had been back then, how little confidence she’d had.

“So, why _did_ you take the fall for me?” Rachel asked. “Real reason. Not the ‘I wanted a vacation from Wells’ reason.” Chloe swallowed hard. It was funny how she’d never told Rachel the true reason before. Now that she was living in some weird version of her memories, she figured she may as well tell the truth, no matter how pathetic it made her sound. What did she have to lose?

“Thought a friendship with you was worth giving it up,” she admitted. “I was a stupid sixteen-year-old with no friends, no real reason to even… exist. And in one day, you’d swooped in and changed that. You’d changed… everything. I wasn’t going to lose that.”

“Chloe,” Rachel began, eyebrows furrowed, “you didn’t have to get yourself expelled to have a shot at being my friend. I would have been friends with you either way.” Rachel huffed. “We were _already_ friends. I’m actually kind of pissed you even thought that.”

“Sorry?” Chloe offered, shrugging her shoulders and laughing. Rachel rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop her lips from turning up in a smile.

“You’re stupid.”

“You find it charming.”

“I do,” Rachel said with a laugh. She wound her hand in Chloe’s, and Chloe rested her head atop Rachel’s.

“You were loyal, Chloe Price. That was why I wanted you.”

“‘Loyal’?” Chloe repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Rachel answered, nodding. “You were real and… someone real like that, they don’t just give up on you. Even when you shove them away and tell them you can’t be friends anymore. Even when you burden them with all of your family bullshit and then burn down an entire fucking forest. Authentic people will have your back, no matter how much you fuck up... No matter how much _I_ fuck up. No one gave me that, Chloe Price. And I’m so fucking... _grateful_ for you.” Chloe tried to swallow past the fuzziness in her throat.

“You’re getting awfully mushy on me, Amber,” was all the response she could manage.

“You’re worth being mushy about.”

“All right,” Chloe mumbled, turning away from the other girl. Rachel grinned, but she decided not to push the blue-haired girl any further. She leaned over, gave Chloe a brief kiss on the cheek, and then nuzzled into her neck.

Chloe’s face was still flushed with heat, but she couldn’t help smiling. She’d always thought of herself as a fuck-up. She didn’t think that she was capable of doing something so _important_ , let alone for a girl like Rachel Amber. It instilled with with an odd sense of pride.

They sat quietly and watched their alternates. Rachel was asking Chloe if she would like to do something fun, and Chloe had responded that her “v-card” was “already punched”. Real Chloe groaned and slapped a hand up to her already reddened face.

Rachel laughed wholeheartedly, couldn’t stop herself from teasing then as she said, “Hey. At least I knew you were DTF.”

“I don’t even know what I was thinking,” Chloe groaned. “No wonder I didn’t have any fucking friends.”

“Well. It seemed like you did have at least _one_ ‘fucking friend,’” Rachel said with a wink.

“Can you not, though?” Chloe moaned. She unconsciously reached for her beanie so she could pull it over her face, only to remember that she was in her PJs and couldn’t be afforded even this simple luxury.

“All right, all right,” Rachel said, still laughing, “I can attempt to _not_. Plus, _you’re_ the one who has the live with the memory of hooking up with Eliot Hampden.”

“I will destroy you, Rachel Amber,” Chloe grunted.

“I’d like to see you try, Price,” Rachel responded with a smirk. Before she knew it, Chloe was tipping her over and grabbing at her sides, tickling her. Rachel cried for her to stop, but of course, Chloe wouldn't. She fought fire with tickles of her own, and soon the two of them were in a breathless heap.

“Truce?” Chloe asked, still breathing just a little too hard.

“Just this once,” Rachel conceded.

The girls readjusted themselves, sitting peacefully as they watched Chloe’s memories. Their alternates played Two Truths and a Lie; Chloe had told two lies in an attempt to trip Rachel up, but Rachel had skillfully deduced the truth. They listened to music on Chloe’s phone, their feet swaying with the beat as they hung over the edge of the train car. Then, before Chloe knew it, Rachel was insisting that they’d reached their destination. She yelled at Chloe to jump.

“Fuck it!” Past Chloe cried, barreling to the speeding ground below. Rachel raised her eyebrows and smirked, clearly impressed, before following suit. Then, for the first time, they walked into the park that would later become another place of escape for them. Rachel sauntered over to the viewfinder and grinned at her companion.

“As your reward for making it up here, I have a new game for us to play,” she had announced with her theatrical grandeur.

“Another one?” Chloe asked, somewhat suspicious.

“I like games! Deal with it,” Rachel said with a chuckle. And now True Chloe understood why Rachel had framed it all as a game, why she hadn’t told Chloe the truth: deep down, Rachel had been hoping that there wasn’t a truth to reveal.

She frowned while watching Rachel, who was banging on the broken machine in a futile attempt to get her change back. Chloe’s past self, more than eager to please, offered to whip something up to get them out of their predicament. True Chloe thought, then, that was she was truly happy that Rachel had invited her along. Even if Rachel hadn’t been upfront about why they were there, she was glad to have been able to provide her some support.

Sooner rather than later, Chloe had retrieved Rachel’s original quarter and popped it into the other machine. They each took a lens and observed the samaritans of the park: a father and son grilling; a man stretching before a run. Eventually, their line of sight fell upon James Amber as he strode up to a woman in a white dress.

“I don’t really want to see this part,” Rachel murmured, turning her head into Chloe’s shoulder.

“That’s all right. Close your eyes, and it’ll be over before you know it.” Rachel did as she was told, and  Chloe ran her fingers through Rachel’s soft, golden locks.

Past Rachel had just backed away from the viewfinder, pointedly asked Chloe what they were doing. Bewildered, Chloe simply stumbled along as Rachel plotted to steal wine from some nearby picnickers.

“You know,” Chloe began softly, “that woman was pregnant.” Rachel hesitated before speaking.

“Really?” she murmured after a moment. Chloe could hear the surprise in her voice, and she nodded.

“When I was at the hospital, I was… well, I was looking for things to tag, and I saw them. Heading to the prenatal unit.” She paused, thinking. “Huh. They’ve already had their baby by now… it’s probably waddling around and chewing on shit it shouldn’t.” Rachel softly laughed.

“It’s a baby, not a dog.” Chloe shrugged.

“Honestly? Same shit. Just one’s a little less furry… usually.” Rachel laughed, pulled herself away from her partner’s shoulder.

“You always know how to make me smile, Chloe Price.”

“It’s why I’m here.”

Soon, their alternates were walking back along the train tracks, sharing swigs of stolen wine. It was then that Chloe had found the junkyard for the first time, had reveled in all of the glorious surprises that lay in store there. Rachel, having just found out that her father was cheating on her mother, was not in the mood to revel; she sat alone, scowling at the ground. Chloe didn’t understand then. She didn’t know why Rachel had become so standoffish. She found herself calling Rachel out on her moodiness, and then she was dealing with a new side of Rachel Amber altogether, one that was argumentative, spiteful.

Though Chloe had begged her to stay, Rachel ended their fight saying she couldn’t be Chloe’s friend. She hadn’t given Chloe a reason back then, so Chloe had simply watched her walk away. Tears were falling down her cheeks and her chest felt constricted. And then all she felt was anger, everything in sight turning scarlet. She picked up the baseball bat that Rachel had discarded and smashed everything she could get her hands on. True Rachel’s head dropped into her hands.

“I had no idea I’d hurt you so badly,” she whispered.

“It’s… fine,” Chloe murmured, turning away from her counterpart. She knew that with one look at her face, Rachel would catch her lie.

“You know she’s fake, yet you can’t take your eyes off of her,” Past Chloe suddenly spoke up. She had strode up to a mannequin, baseball bat poised to strike. “Who else do I know who fits that description?”

“I… I didn’t mean that,” Chloe said quickly. But then the bat slammed into the mannequin’s face, the force sending its head flying off.

“Fuck off, Rachel,” grunted Chloe’s younger companion, and the real Chloe couldn’t help but grimace.

“It’s fine,” Rachel said, and she sounded more composed than Chloe had expected. The actress swallowed hard, stared ahead. “I deserved that,” she said finally.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Chloe muttered in Rachel’s defense. “We made up right after. I barely had time to be mad about it.”

“We wouldn’t have had to make up if I’d just been honest with you in the first place.” Rachel laughed. “You were right: I was fake.”

“Hey--” Chloe began, but the other girl cut her off.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to spiral on you. I’m just stating the facts as they are, and you were right.” Rachel turned to look the other girl directly in the eye, amber eyes meeting blue. “But... thank you. For finding me. For giving me another chance.” Chloe found that she couldn’t keep the eye contact and glanced away. She could feel a familiar heat creeping into her cheeks, felt the fuzziness coating her throat again.

“Yeah… sure,” she mumbled. Even though Rachel was expressing herself so freely, it was all Chloe could bring herself to say. It would seem too permanent, too… final to say anything more.

Luckily, she didn’t have to speak much; after Past Chloe’s fit had drawn to a close, their surroundings began to blur. The heaps of abandoned items gave way to trees in full bloom, swaying gently in the spring breeze. The sun had been replaced with a starry night sky.

“Back at the park,” Rachel whispered, though Chloe already knew. She nodded once, sharply. The strange tightness remained in her throat, making it hard to speak or even think.

They were getting so close to the end. There wouldn’t be much left after this.

Past Chloe slowly walked up to Past Rachel. Rachel kept her back turned to Chloe as she approached.  
  
“You came,” she said softly. “I’m glad.”

“Are you sure about that?” Chloe asked, her voice low. “I got kind of a different message this afternoon.”

“Yeah,” Rachel murmured, and Chloe could hear the tears in her voice. “Chloe... I want to talk to you about something, but… I don’t know how to talk about this.” The dropout shook her head.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” she said gently, already regretting how pointed she’d just been with the other girl. Rachel stood for a moment, staring at the greenery before them.

“You remember that guy we saw under this tree with that woman?” she asked

“The ones that were making out?” She didn’t know, then, what they had to do with Rachel, how they fit into the picture. Rachel nodded.

“That was my dad,” Rachel revealed.

“Oh. All right.”

“And that woman… was _definitely_ not my mom,” she added.

“Turns out--that woman was _definitely_ my mom,” Real Rachel said with a roll of her eyes.

“Dramatic irony at its finest,” dryly replied her counterpart. The actress chuckled, then sighed.

“ _The Tempest'_ s got nothing on the two of us, huh,” she muttered. “We’re a walking, talking tragedy, Price.” Chloe took Rachel’s hand in hers, squeezed tightly.

“Maybe not,” Chloe murmured. “We’ll escape Arcadia, we’ll find Sera… We’ll, I don’t know, fucking get married and live happily ever after.” Rachel raised her eyebrows.

“‘Get married’? Did you just propose to me, Chloe Price?” She was joking, but she wanted to see the look of utter panic on Chloe’s face.

She was surprised when it never came.

“Sure.”

The one word was delivered so easily that Chloe could have been joking,too. But the way she avoided eye contact, the hint of red Rachel saw creeping into her cheeks… Rachel smiled, leaned into her companion. Didn’t say anything more, because nothing really needed to be said.

They didn’t speak when Past Rachel proposed the one idea that had brought them together: leaving Arcadia Bay. They didn’t speak when Chloe handed Rachel her lighter, nor when Rachel set fire to the picture of her with her father on Mount Hood. Rachel let the photo drift from her hand into the trash can and then, in a sudden fit of rage, kicked the trash can onto its side. The flames surged through the trees like blood through veins.

They were silent as they watched the flames engulf the flora and the fauna around them.

And even though everything was falling apart, Chloe couldn't deny how beautiful it was.

* * *

Rachel tightly squeezed Chloe’s hand as they watched her younger counterpart strut past the bouncer she had just verbally abused. The spectators found themselves in the old mill on the outskirts of town on what would become its final night; in less than twenty-four hours it would be ashes, but now, none of the wood was scarred, charred, and patrons nursed their alcoholic beverages by the bar.

Chloe stood with her jaw clenched tightly. She didn’t realize it, but her free was balled into a fist. The feeling of dread expanded in her chest, and it was getting harder for her to breathe.

Because this was it. This was the last memory, the time she and Rachel had first met. Chloe was still gangly and lacking confidence, and Rachel had swooped in and saved her ass from scrawny punks who’d had too much to drink. She was brilliant as always, even during their first interaction.

When she woke, she wouldn’t remember any of that brilliance.


	14. Let's pretend we had one (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all ends with the beginning. Chloe and Rachel revisit their first 24 hours (part 2).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! It'syaboi. This chapter was a bit delayed because I'M IN JAPAN! Like actually. Haven't had too much time to write, but got most of this done before I left and edited it here. The next chapter could take a while, though, because, yeah. I'm on the other side of the globe. Good times.
> 
> Hope this doesn't make you cry! Haha... ha.

“Hey,” Rachel murmured, nuzzling her forehead against Chloe’s tensed jaw. “It’s okay.” She hesitated a moment, simply swinging their entwined hands. “If it’s our last moment… let’s try to make the best of it,” she said, offering Chloe a small, sad smile. Chloe attempted to swallow past the tightness in her throat, tried to force her expression into a smile that may have been a grimace.

“Yeah,” she finally sighed. She squeezed Rachel’s hand. “Let’s try.”

They held each other close, still watched wordlessly. The younger Chloe, who had yet to dye her hair its trademark blue, explored this new, gruffer side to Arcadia Bay. She swiped a beer bottle sitting in a cooler and happily took a well-deserved swig. She admired the graffiti plastering the pillars and walls, nodded her head to the beat of the music Firewalk played in the room over.

She meandered over to a man selling t-shirts from the back of his car, and then, upon learning that they were twenty dollars each, pondered upon a less expensive way of procuring one. It turned out that all the vendor’s car needed was a little tap on the parking brake; it went crashing out of the mill, much to the dismay of its owner. His loss was Chloe’s gain; she happily helped herself to one of the shirts in the trunk, along with a stack of bills she found hidden beneath it.

She did see her dealer, Frank, spread across one of the couches, his gaze distant. Chloe did technically owe him money, and now that she’d snatched some from the t-shirt vendor, she did actually have enough cash to pay him back. But surely Frank didn’t expect her to pay him back, did he? Sure, he put on a show of being angry everytime Chloe insisted that the money was still coming. At this point, though, he should have known better than to deal to his clients on a loan.

Chloe smirked, ran a finger along the stack of bills in her pocket. Yeah. Frank didn’t need the money. Not as much as she did.

Still grinning to herself, Chloe made her way to the dancefloor. Luck had truly been on her side until that moment; all it took was a shove from an intoxicated party-goer to push Chloe into Sheldon Pike.

“Ugh, this asshole,” Spectating Chloe said, shaking her head. “He almost ruined my whole night.”

“Operative word being ‘almost,’” Rachel said with a wink.

Sheldon, a lanky man in his thirties and an associate of Damon Merrick, regarded Chloe. At that time, she didn’t know the dangerous company that the man kept, but she flinched, expecting a fight. Instead, he asked, “Hey, you okay?” and the mock concern was almost worse.

“I'm fine," Chloe grunted. His playing nice disturbed her more than anything, and she quickly attempted to step past him. Surprisingly, he moved just as quickly, immediately blocking her path.

“Relax,” he said, a sneer forming on his chapped lips. “ _You_ bumped into _me,_ remember?” Chloe rolled her eyes and tried once again to shove past him, but the greasy older man man wouldn’t allow it.

“You don’t know who I am, _do you_?” he asked. He took a pull from his cigarette, which Chloe assumed was supposed to be menacing. It wasn’t.

“Nope. Don’t care, either,” she said, finally pushing past Sheldon and his goon.

“God, you were _so_ badass,” Rachel said, eyes alight. “And that was only the beginning.”

“Well, when life gives you skeezy douchebags…”

“You give them black eyes?” Rachel finished with a giggle. Chloe gave a short laugh.

“More like the other way around.” Rachel curled herself into Chloe’s side.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still my hero.” Even though it made her eyes well up with tears, Chloe returned the affection, rested her head atop Rachel’s as the scene continued to unfold.

Begrudgingly, Chloe’s alternate turned away from the mosh pit; she knew there’d be no way to get in without confronting that greasy-haired asswipe again. She found herself standing by the bar, eyeing a half-rotted wooden staircase. It didn’t look particularly stable, but she had come way too far that night to give up. She was going to see Firewalk, damn it, and she wouldn’t let anyone stop her. She hopped up the stairs, seemingly unnoticed by anyone, and made herself at home on the mill’s upper level.

Chloe lay upon the creaky old wood of the abandoned second floor, let the sound waves of her favorite band reverberate through her body. David had been making more appearances around the house for some reason Chloe truly could not fathom, her mom was constantly nagging her to play nice, and Wells was breathing down her neck at Blackwell. She’d needed a break from it at all. She really wished she had a joint, but this--being 200 bucks richer, feeling the bass from Firewalk fill her bones--was enough. She felt content for the first time in a long time.

And then the booze-stained baboon from downstairs appeared in her field of vision, pointing an accusatory finger way too close to her chest.

“You spilled my beer, bitch!” he cried. Chloe sighed, forced herself up. How pathetic was this guy to pick a fight with a sixteen-year-old girl? And over a cheap bottle of beer of all things.

“You should be more careful. It’s a rough place,” Chloe said with a roll of her blue eyes. She was feeding the man the same line the bouncer had to her.

“I don’t like your attitude,” the man said with a leer. Chloe didn’t understand why that was her problem; like she said, he should have been more careful. She attempted to stride past him, but just as before, he stepped in her way. “We’re not done here,” he declared, smirking.

“Then how about I show you how unimpressed I am with limp dick assholes who get _butthurt_ over a _spilled beer_ ,” Chloe spat, eyes narrowed. Sheldon and his big-eared crony turned to each other, exchanging a look, and then turned back to the teenage girl.

“I think she’s calling us out, dude,” said Sheldon’s minion.

“She’s going to regret every word,” said Sheldon. He drew closer, brandishing his empty bottle. “Every. Word.”

“Whew. Good thing I came in when I did,” Rachel said, raising her eyebrows at Chloe. Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, but she was smiling.

Her past self now stood at the edge of what remained of the stable flooring, everything behind her bare bones planks of wood. Sheldon smashed his beer bottle against a nearby pillar, leaving it dangerously sharp and spiked. Chloe’s eyes widened, her mind and heart racing. She had to think of something quick, or else she’d end up with a shanked spleen.

Then, the two words that saved her, from the person who would save her life:

“Hey! Dickhead!”

Rachel’s younger self appeared at the top of the staircase. She stared down the two unknown men who had backed Chloe into a corner.

“Oh my god!” Current Rachel squealed. “It’s me!” Chloe laughed.

“It sure is. And you say _I_ was badass. Look at you in your studded jacket and combat boots.” Rachel checked Chloe with her hip.

“I _do_ look pretty damn good.” She gave a thoughtful pause. “We _both_ look good. Let’s call it a draw in badassery.”

“Deal,” Chloe agreed with a smile.

As if they needed any more proof of just how daring they were, Chloe took the moment of distraction to bring her bottle onto Sheldon's face. It didn't shatter, but the impact brought the suspect older man to his knees. Sheldon’s crony missed a beat only to stare, wide-eyed; then, he was rounding on Chloe, slamming her just below her eye with his left fist.

Chloe was certainly dazed, but the adrenaline kept her from feeling any pain. That was one advantage of getting attacked by gross old dudes, she supposed. She stumbled toward the staircase where Rachel stood.

“Rachel?” Chloe asked. Was this really _the_ Rachel Amber, the most popular girl in school? What was she doing in a place like this? How had she found Chloe? Honestly, they’d never even spoken before; why did Rachel care if she got into trouble?

Sheldon’s henchman helped him get to his feet. Though Chloe’s mind was still racing, there was no time--Rachel grabbed her hand and hurried them down the staircase.

The two men were gaining on them, panting and grunting from the physical effort, when Chloe got help from the last person she expected; standing between the girls and the goons was the very same dealer she currently owed a hundred dollars, Frank Bowers.

“Walk away,” Frank barked at the other men. He seemed to have some standing with them; they glowered at the girls but ceased to pursue them any further. Rachel blew them a kiss, while Chloe grinned and flipped them her middle finger.

“Damn, do we look cool,” Spectating Rachel said, a small smile gracing her features. “I kind of can’t get over us.”

“Not sure you’ll be saying the same when you see us dance,” Chloe muttered. Rachel firmly shook her head.

“I am a _fabulous_ dancer. And so are you, Chloe Price.” At that, the blue-haired girl couldn’t help but snort. “You are!” Rachel insisted. “You may not have form or, like, rhythm…”

“Hey.”

“But you dance with everything you’ve got. You don’t care how you move, you don’t care what others think. You just have a good time.” Rachel smirked. “Plus, you say you hate dancing... but when you do, you’re so passionate about it. More than you are about most things.”

“That’s not true,” Chloe said with a pout. “I’m passionate about a lot of things.”

“Like?” asked Rachel, raising an eyebrow.

“Like… getting high,” Chloe offered, wagging her eyebrows. Rachel grinned.

“Not a hobby that society would indulge, but one that I sure as hell do.”

“Exactly.”

True to form, Younger Chloe flailed around with abandon, screaming Firewalk lyrics at the top of her lungs. She remembered the venue being so loud that she couldn’t hear her own voice. She’d loved it. She loved the energy of the people bouncing around alongside her; she loved the fog and the multicolored lights that poured over the crowd; most of all, she loved having someone to share the moment with.

She didn’t really know Rachel Amber, but Rachel Amber knew Firewalk; every word the band sang, Rachel matched. Chloe was too embarrassed then to admit it, but she’d been impressed. She also didn’t admit that maybe she spent more time than she should have watching Rachel swing her hips, and she sure wouldn’t now. Rachel didn’t need the ego boost.

“It’s kind of trippy to see ourselves dance,” Rachel commented.

“It is.” Rachel turned to Chloe, and Chloe saw that mischievous spark in her eyes.

“Let’s dance, too, Chloe Price. One last time.”

Chloe loved to give Rachel a hard time whenever possible, but she didn’t have the heart to do so. Not this time. Wordlessly, swallowing hard, she lifted a hand for Rachel to hold. Rachel ignored it, opting instead to place her arms on the other girl’s shoulders. Chloe’s arms automatically went to Rachel’s waist. Timely enough, Firewalk was playing their last song, an acoustic ballad that fell outside of their typical style. It wasn’t Chloe’s favorite song, but it worked a lot better for a slow dance than the rest of their discography.

Then Chloe felt it again, the impending dread. After this song was over, the show was done. She and Rachel would say their goodbyes, and then…

“Hey,” Rachel murmured, lifting up Chloe’s chin with her finger. “No sulking.”

“I wasn’t,” Chloe muttered, averting her eyes. She could feel Rachel’s stare burning into her forehead, though, so she looked back.

“You’re a terrible liar, Chloe Price.”

“Whatever,” she grumbled. She found herself looking down at her feet. Rachel had to gently lift her chin up again.

“We said we were going to make the best of this, didn’t we?” she asked softly. And Chloe didn’t want to cry, but she could feel the sting behind her eyes, could feel her throat growing tight.

“But I don’t… I don’t know how to do this.” Her voice was a whisper because she couldn’t manage anything else.

“How to slow dance? You’re not doing too bad,” Rachel said. She was still smiling, still had that sparkle in her eyes. Even after all the time they’d spent together, it still made Chloe’s chest ache as though she were seeing that grin for the first time. She pulled away from Rachel, wrapped her arms around herself.

“I don’t know how to lose you,” she said finally. The tears were beginning to fall. Rachel frowned, stepped closer. She lifted her hand slowly, gently wiped the tears from Chloe’s cheeks.

“Chloe,” Rachel said softly, but Chloe shook her head.

“After this, it’ll all be over. I’ll forget everything about you.”

“Chloe--”

“I won’t remember how we met. How you were there for me when no one else was. How much you… you changed _everything_. It’ll all be gone like it never fucking happened.” Chloe was crying in earnest now. Rachel’s first instinct was to wrap her arms around her, rub soothing circles into her back.

“I wish I’d never done this,” Chloe sobbed, and she realized that it was first time she’d admitted it to herself aloud. “I wish I hadn’t erased you.”

“It’s okay, Chloe,” Rachel whispered. She kissed Chloe’s wet cheek, wiped away more tears.

“It’s not. I’m not… I’m not going to fucking be okay without you. I don’t know _how_ to be okay without you.”

The Firewalk song was almost over. Past Rachel pulled out her cellphone and turned the camera toward herself. Past Chloe shied away, allowing Rachel to take her selfie without interference.

“Hey,” Rachel had said, pulling Chloe over by her elbow, “it’s not a memory without you in it.” Chloe remembered how she blushed then. She remembered seeing Rachel’s radiant smile as she posed for the picture, how contagious it was… it melted away her embarrassment, and soon she was smiling alongside Rachel wholeheartedly.

She was going to miss that smile.

“You _will_ be okay, Chloe,” Current Rachel said assuredly. “I was… I was not always good to you.” She flicked her eyes away from the other girl. “This is your chance for a clean break.”

“I don’t _want_ a clean break!” Chloe nearly screamed. “I just want you!”

The song ended. The alternates smiled at each other, having shared an experience unlike any other with just one another.

“I didn’t treat you right, Chloe,” Rachel whispered. “You deserve a chance to forget me, to forget all of the shit I put you through.”

“Then, I don’t know, be better!” Chloe cried, tears still streaming down her cheeks. The dancefloor was emptying much more quickly than it had filled. Soon, the younger Chloe and Rachel found themselves in a stream of people shuffling outside. The light spring breeze felt pleasantly cool against their sweat-soaked skin.  
  
“This was _amazing_ ,” Rachel said, her hazel eyes aglow with moonlight, with happiness. Chloe couldn’t help but eagerly nod like a puppy.

“Totally. This was… really cool.” She hadn’t expected to have a good time at a punk concert with Blackwell’s most adored honor student, but… she had. This was the best night she’d had in years.

“If you think you were bad for me, then promise me you’ll be better,” Chloe said, her voice soft. Almost defeated. She rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Chloe…” Rachel murmured, but the other girl would not accept 'no' for an answer.

“Promise!” she cried.

“I can’t believe tomorrow we’re going to have to go back to Blackwell like none of this ever happened,” Past Rachel said, clicking her tongue with distaste. Past Chloe nodded her agreement.

“I know. It’s so stupid. But… at least tonight was good.”

“Just ‘good’?” Rachel prodded, and Chloe chuckled.

“Tonight was… fan-fucking-tabuous,” Chloe declared. Both girls laughed, Rachel’s delight still as infectious as ever. Hearing her laughter was becoming addictive.

The spectating Rachel watched the two girls, saw the joy and felt the warmth between them, and she sighed.

“All right,” Rachel conceded. “But only if you keep your promise, too.” Chloe’s eyebrows raised, questioning. “Really? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.” The blue-haired girl shook her head, sniffled.

“I haven’t… we’ll… we’ll leave Arcadia Bay, and we’ll find your real mom. We’ll find Sera.” Rachel nodded, put her hands on her hips.

“Damn right we will. And I’ll…” The honor student paused, swallowed hard. “I’ll be better to you. I’ll be better _for_ you. So… we have to meet again, okay? So we can keep our promises to each other.” Chloe nodded, willed the new wave of tears she felt springing to her eyes to stop.

“Okay,” Chloe whispered, placing a hand on the other girl’s cheek. Rachel’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact.

“As incredible as this has been,” Past Rachel began, “I should head home.” She sighed. “Gotta sneak in before the parents know I’m gone.”

“Me too,” Past Chloe admitted.

Everything was disappearing from sight. From the sky down, everything was slowly scrubbed white as though someone had taken an eraser to it. The tops of the trees were vanishing from view.

“You know,” Rachel began, her voice soft. “I feel like I should be more freaked out, but… I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Chloe asked, genuinely surprised because she couldn’t relate. Rachel shook her head.

“Not at all. Part of it is the promises we made to each other, but… there’s more, somehow.”

Now the top of the old mill had been erased away as though it had never existed. The white continued to scrub its way down the first story.

“Well,” said Past Rachel, “it’s been a slice, Chloe Price. I’ll see you again sometime?” Past Chloe nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

The whiteness had taken over everything except for the shapes of themselves and their alternates. Without the other people, without the mill, the cars, the bikes, everything was silent. Chloe could hear her heart beating in her ears.

“More?” Chloe repeated. She didn’t understand what Rachel meant, and time was clearly running out. Rachel nodded.

“It’s like… even with all the shit that’s happened between us… none of it matters. Know why?” Chloe shook her head, tears stinging her eyes again. Rachel smiled up at her, and when she did, it reached up to her glowing hazel eyes.

“Because we’re meant to be together,” she said simply, and Chloe could hear the thunderous sound of her own heart breaking.

“Bye Rachel,” Past Chloe said with a final wave. Rachel turned around, blew her a kiss, and then skipped off into the light, where she herself disappeared. The real Rachel was fading, too.

“Let’s meet again someday,” she said, and though she stood right beside Chloe, her voice sounded distant.

“The junkyard,” Chloe whispered.

Everything went white.

* * *

Chloe Price awoke the next morning with a dry mouth and a throbbing headache. She didn’t remember drinking the previous night, but that only meant it must have been a good night. Still, waking up with a dull ache in her head and the taste of dead things in her mouth was not ideal. She’d really have to start drinking less. Not that she was going to.

She stretched and then rolled onto her side, picking up her phone from her nightstand. It was one PM. She only had one message on her phone, and it was from her mother:

“Chloe,

I knew you had a dark sense of humor, but I forget how imaginative you are.

In all seriousness, I wish you didn’t feel like you had to take such drastic measures to get my attention. I’m always happy to talk with my daughter. Let’s chat when you wake up.”

Chloe stared at the message, narrowed her eyes. ‘Drastic measures’? Had she cut off David’s dick in his sleep? Probably not. That warranted more than a playfully chiding text message. She scrolled up, looked at the last text she’d sent her mother.

“Hey Mom. There’s a letter to you in my drawer, the blue one. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. --C”

A letter? That sounded way out of place. She wondered how badly she’d fucked up to have actually written her mother a letter, like a damn pilgrim or something.

Chloe sat up, ran a hand through her blue hair, then slipped out of bed. She shuffled over to the drawer she’d mentioned in her text and slid it open. Nothing was out of the ordinary; there were old concert tickets, collectible cards, various knick-knacks. No gut-wrenching letter to her mother.

“Oh well,” she said with a noncommittal shrug. It probably wasn’t that big of a deal. Her mom had taken the letter as a joke, after all. She’d also offered to talk to her about it instead of demanding she march downstairs and own up to what she had done. While Chloe did appreciate her mom’s offer to chat, she didn’t really feel like talking. Not with the hammering going on inside of her head.

She knew just the cure for a hangover. Within minutes, she was lying back in bed, a freshly rolled joint in hand. She stared up at the ceiling, wondering what mischief she could get up to today. She wished, for a moment, that she actually had friends. Someone special she could spend time with, even if it was doing boring shit all day.

She sighed, and a plume of smoke escaped her lips. That kind of life wasn’t meant for her. Plus, she could get into plenty of trouble on her own.

When she spoke aloud, it was to no one in particular.

“Just another day in paradise.”


	15. Only to find out she's a total stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe Price thinks her days of loneliness have finally come to an end when she meets Rachel Amber.
> 
> Chloe Price is wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, y'all! Back from all of my travels with a fresh update for ya. This chapter was super fun to write!
> 
> The next chapter should be the last, unless I decide to split that into two as well. We'll see, I guess?
> 
> All right, done blabbing. Talk to you soon!

It had been a bit of a lonely summer for Chloe Price, not that she would ever admit it. Some days when she felt more adventurous, she’d trek up to the Arcadia Bay lighthouse. It wasn’t because she particularly liked the spot, although she did; the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore and the smell of sea salt put her at ease. Mostly, though, she remembered how much time she’d spent gallivanting around the lighthouse as a child. When things were simpler, sweeter. When she wasn’t as fucked up as she was now. She appreciated the nostalgia, only in that it caused an ache deep in her bones.

That was the allure of the lighthouse: it brought out a longing in her for something she’d had once before, but also longing for something she’d never quite had. Maybe would never have.

She liked the feeling, thinking that there was something awaiting her but always out of her grasp. It seemed to justify all of the shit choices she’d made so far; didn’t matter that she’d dropped out of school, because even if she hadn’t, she was never going to make anything of herself. Didn’t matter that she’d never gone out of her way to make friends, because sooner or later, they would turn on her, reject her.

Most of all, the strange feeling fit into her schema that the universe was forever punishing her. There wasn’t a moment where she didn’t dislike herself for something, and the lighthouse amplified that with the mysterious feelings it invoked in her. She didn’t care to know why the lighthouse sparked this response--she only cared that it did. 

On days where she felt more amorous than adventurous, she’d flick open an application on her phone and scroll through potential hook-ups. More often than not, she found someone who was also itching for a rendezvous. The hook-ups did what they were supposed to: make her feel good, help dilute her summer boredom. Of course, the relief never lasted too long, and sooner rather than later, Chloe was onto the next hook-up.

Some days, when she couldn’t be bothered at all, she’d simply lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a blunt in hand. It was on days like these that the lighthouse sentiment would hit Chloe in full force and without her permission. It welled up inside of her, filling her lungs more harshly than the smoke from the weed. And sure, a high could take her mind off of that feeling for a while. But on those days, that rush of nostalgia for something she’d never had would always come rushing back. It was like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

Then the first day of autumn came, and the blue-haired girl found herself face-to-face with the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen.

Chloe couldn’t put her finger on what it was about this girl that made her so breathtaking; she only knew that she was. Then, the more they spoke, the more she realized it was a combination of things that made her so irresistible. That lazily sexy smile, the deep, warm tone of her voice. They’d only been interacting for a few minutes, but this girl was so different from everyone else in Arcadia. Chloe couldn’t help but wonder how she’d never noticed or seen her before.

A few minutes earlier, Chloe had been wandering through the nearby junkyard, reclaiming old trucks as her own and smashing long abandoned items with a baseball bat she’d found lying around. Now, she was inviting a gorgeous girl that she barely knew to spend some time with her in a rusted shell of a pick-up. Even though it wasn’t much of an invite, Chloe could still feel the heat in her face when the other girl accepted it. She could feel that something about this chance meeting was bigger than herself.

The other girl turned to head toward the truck when Chloe shouted, “Wait!” Her companion paused in her tracks, turned back to face her, and Chloe felt the heat in her cheeks burn more brightly.

“You’re not going to tell me your name?” she asked in spite of herself. The other girl regarded her, gave her a lopsided grin. Chloe’s ice heart warmed ever so slightly.

“Rachel Amber,” the girl had replied, still giving her that smile. A smile that seemed to say she knew everything worth knowing, that if Chloe were lucky, maybe she’d let her in on the secret.

Soon, Chloe found herself back in the truck she had just discovered. The only difference, now, was that an undoubtedly beautiful and absolutely charming teenage girl sat beside her.

She didn’t realize it at first, didn’t understand the blushing, the quickening of her pulse, the tingle in the palms of her hands. But for the first time in a long time, Chloe Price was nervous. She actually cared what the person beside her thought, and she wanted her to like her. When was the last time she’d felt that?

Honestly, when was the last time she’d cared so much about anything?

“This is pretty cool,” said Rachel, breaking the silence between them. “This is your truck?” As terrified as Chloe was of saying the wrong thing, she welcomed the question as a much needed distraction from her own thoughts.

“Err, not really,” she answered truthfully. “I actually just found it here, weirdly enough.” She explained briefly how she’d roamed the junkyard and found some touches to make the truck a little homier, revealed her hope of getting it up and running so she could finally leave the bay. Rachel sighed, her gaze somewhat distant.

“Lucky you,” she’d said. “That’s the one thing I want the most. Other than to become a model, I guess. But I’ve gotta get out of Arcadia Bay to do that, though, so…”

“You’re too damn good for this place.” Chloe said it without thinking and immediately, immensely disliked herself for it. Who was she to diagnose people she didn’t know? Pretentious, much? But Rachel only laughed, asked Chloe how she would know when they barely knew each other. Based on that response alone, Chloe felt that maybe it was… safe to speak her mind, to say what she actually believed even if it was all off-base. So she did.

“You don’t feel like you belong here,” she admitted. “I guess I know because I feel like I don’t… belong here either.” And there it was again, her mouth speaking before her head could catch up. This time for sure she’d done it, said too much too soon and scared away someone in which she had genuine interest. She wanted to smack herself.

But Rachel only laughed again, asked if it was that obvious, confessed that she didn’t know why she was still in the bay. She had friends and family who cared about her--she’d made that much clear. But maybe it wasn’t enough. Chloe wanted to know, but Rachel only apologized.

“I shouldn’t be unloading all of this on you,” she said with a chuckle. “We barely know each other.”

“No,” Chloe interjected. “I really don’t mind.” Rachel responded with another lopsided smile, but Chloe, having known pain all her life, could detect it in that smile without even trying.

“It’s just…” Rachel began, “funny how when I’m feeling like I don’t know anyone or know what’s right or what’s real, you show up. And… it feels like I know you. And you feel right, and you feel real.”

From that moment, Chloe Price knew that she couldn’t let this girl go.

* * *

 

“By the way,” Chloe said to her companion, lazily holding a joint between her fingers. A day had passed, and much to her delight, they were seeing each other again. “What’s with the giant envelope?” Her new friend glanced down at the manila envelope in her lap.

“Oh, right!” She chuckled. “Actually, I don’t know. I saw it on the way out of my house and saw that it was addressed to me, but I didn’t really have time to look through it. There’s a cassette in it, though.”

“A cassette tape?” Chloe asked, snorting. “Like, from the ‘90s?” The blonde beside her nodded.

“Yeah. Bizarre. But I thought that since this truck is so old…” Chloe grinned, knocked on the dashboard.

“You thought right. This old girl _only_ has a cassette player, so you really lucked out with that. Still, what weirdo sends cassettes in the mail?”

“I dunno,” Rachel admitted. Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the envelope. “It just says it’s from Lacuna Inc. Whoever the hell they are.” Chloe brought her lighter to the tip of the joint Rachel had brought her, watched the joint catch fire. She brought it to her lips, took a puff, and then released a thin wisp of smoke from between her lips.

“Well,” she said, leaning back, “let’s see what they have to say.”

Rachel slid the cassette from the envelope and into the truck’s cassette player.

Five minutes later, Chloe was falling apart.

“I need to erase Chloe Price,” came Rachel’s voice, previously recorded who knew how long ago.

Chloe ejected the cassette, almost threw it at the girl beside her. Tears began to fall from Rachel’s hazel eyes.

“Chloe,” she began, her voice desperate, broken, “I don’t know what this is. I swear to God. I don’t…” She trailed off, at a loss for words. “It’s not even _possible_ ,” she said finally. “Chloe--”

“Get the FUCK out of my truck,” Chloe roared. “Get the fuck out.” Rachel wound her arms around herself as though it’d stop the feeling of her heart being tugged from her chest.

“Chloe,” she whispered, reaching out to place a pacifying hand on Chloe’s shoulder. She instantly shrugged her off.

“Fuck you,” Chloe growled.

There was a moment where Rachel simply sat there, silent, arms wrapped around her stomach as she softly cried. Chloe didn’t know what the other girl was waiting for; she’d made it pretty damn clear that she wanted her out of her truck. Her knuckles began to turn white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, but she refused to show any weakness. She stared ahead, jaw locked, eyes burning, waiting for Rachel to leave. She could feel Rachel’s stare boring into her, pleading with her to just look at her, but she’d heard enough.

Finally, after seeing Chloe’s stony resolve, Rachel threw open the truck door. She slipped out and slammed the door shut behind her. Chloe could still hear her crying as she ran off. With the other girl gone, Chloe allowed herself to do the same, head dropping into her hands.

Why was she so worked up over this girl, this girl she’d known for about twenty-four hours? People she knew, people she cared about had been more cruel, and Chloe hadn’t batted an eyelid. Yet here she was, torn into shreds by a girl she’d only just met. It just didn’t make sense.

None of it made sense.

* * *

 

Chloe Price decided that she had spent too much time crying. Two whole days had passed since she had befriended, crushed on, and then ultimately been crushed by the entity known as Rachel Amber, and she was still weepy. It was embarrassing. It was pathetic. Girls like her, jaded, hardened by the unending amount of bullshit life had thrown their way didn’t cry like this. They didn’t let one stupid, teenage girl come in and wreck everything. Then again, things always went wrong for Chloe. It was her own fault for expecting that this would be different, that maybe something good could have come from meeting Rachel.

The thing was, when she was with Rachel, she felt something akin to that lighthouse nostalgia. It was different, though, in that she didn’t feel something was missing. She didn’t experience that same melancholy that being alone at the lighthouse created. Instead, she felt… warm. Nervous, giddy even. But beneath that, there was something more substantial. Now that her house was a battlefield patrolled by a small-dick prick, now that her school had abandoned her, now that she had no ambitions for the future… Rachel felt right. She felt like the home she’d lost, the future that Chloe had stopped looking forward to seeing.

Of course, that illusion was shattered. Rachel had met Chloe before, and evidently, she despised her.

That was why it hurt so much to know the truth. Rachel mattered to her, and she’d been hoping, despite everything, that she mattered to her, too. But she didn’t. Rachel had gone out of her way to forget about her.

That was why, when Chloe answered a call from an unknown number, her stomach flipped when she heard Rachel’s voice.

“Chloe,” she said softly. Chloe hadn’t ever heard someone say her name that way before, so gently, so full of relief. Almost like a prayer. Her chest constricted, and her face burned bright.

Then she remembered the tape recording, the desperation in the old Rachel’s voice, and all of the warmth drained from her body.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Chloe hissed, and then she unceremoniously ended the phone call.

Chloe Price had decided that she’d spent too much time crying, but that didn’t stop the next wave of tears from falling. It didn’t stop her from curling up in her bed and shoving her pillow over her head, trying to ignore the sound of her phone vibrating beside her. In a sudden fit of agony, she snatched it up and threw it across the room. It landed with a crash, and the vibration ceased.

It didn’t matter that Rachel was calling her now. It didn’t matter if she wanted to explain, if she wanted to make up. Even if Rachel didn’t hate her now, she had before. Likely, she’d come to hate her again. Why should Chloe have wasted her time?

Eventually, Chloe rolled herself out of bed, her eyes burning, her body weak. She’d forgotten to eat, but she didn’t really care, either. She shuffled over to her phone and saw that the battery had fallen out during the impact. She slid it back into place, turned on the phone, and was greeted by a novel-length series of texts from the girl she’d once naively believed was her future. Even though she wanted to, she couldn’t resist reading the first line.

“Chloe, I am so deeply sorry. I know how hard this must be for you.”

Chloe snorted at that, dropped her phone into a nearby pile of dirty clothes and left it there, because how could she know? How in the fuck would Rachel Amber know how it felt to care about someone, only to have that person erase you from their existence? It was all bullshit. More garbage being shoveled onto her plate by a universe that seemed to enjoy continuously shitting on her.

The next day, Joyce Madsen brought up breakfast (though it was more of a lunch, based on the current hour) to her daughter’s room because she wanted to make sure she was still alive. She was, but she hardly looked it; she looked thin, frail wrapped up in all her layers of blankets. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. She looked pale and worn and tired, and it hurt Joyce so badly to see her that way.

Chloe refused the food, of course, though she appreciated the sentiment. She felt terrible for her mother; it must have been exhausting and supremely underwhelming to care so much about someone like her, someone who was so irrevocably fucked up.

“I wish you’d talk to me,” Joyce said quietly. Joyce was a strong woman, the strongest Chloe had ever known, so when she heard a quiver in her mother’s voice, it frightened her. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. She couldn’t even think about the events of the other day without wanting to cry.

“I’ll be fine,” was all Chloe could muster, and her mother sighed. She stepped closer, ran her fingers through Chloe’s hair. It was more soothing than Chloe would ever admit.

“I’m leaving the food here. Please try to eat something. Even if you don’t want to talk, please come downstairs today. Just so I can see you, know that you’re alive and kicking. Okay?” Chloe nodded.

“Thanks, Mom,” she murmured. She could hear Joyce’s footsteps receding before she cried, “Oh!” Chloe turned to look back at her mother, who was heading back toward her.

“I forgot, but this came in the mail for you,” said Joyce. She held a manila envelope toward her daughter. Chloe simply stared at it, wondering who the fuck would send her something in the mail.

“Take it,” Joyce said again. “Maybe it’ll have some good news.” Chloe was too tired to snort or roll her eyes. This poor, deluded woman, thinking that maybe something good actually awaited her. That maybe Chloe had applied for colleges behind her back or something, believing that a university would actually accept a bum who hadn’t finished high school.  
  
“Thanks, Mom,” Chloe said again, likely less sincere this time. Joyce flashed her a quick smile before leaving her room, softly shutting the door behind her.

Alone, Chloe finally looked down at the envelope. Saw that it was addressed to her. Saw the return address. Saw the name Lacuna Inc.

Chloe stared. Her heart fell into her stomach. Her mouth went dry.

“Fuck.”

* * *

 

“You want to talk? Let’s talk. Junkyard, truck. I’m already here.”

That was the text message Chloe had sent Rachel twenty minutes prior. Rachel had responded right away, saying that her last class had just ended and that she’d been there soon. Chloe didn’t respond. She sat behind the steering wheel, staring blankly ahead at the heaps of garbage around her.

She lifted a hand, hesitated, and then rewound the cassette. She’d listened to the recording so many times over the last hour and a half that she knew exactly how long to rewind it to skip the legal intro.

“Miss Price,” came a slow, male voice, “why don’t you begin by telling us your full name and why you’re here.”

“I’m Chloe Price. I’m here to erase Rachel _fucking_ Amber,” came the response from her own voice, except it wasn’t her. It was another Chloe, a different Chloe who had so many fucked-up memories that she had decided to erase them all.

“Understood,” said the male, Doctor Howard Mierzwiak. Apparently he was unfazed by Chloe’s vulgarities. “Why don’t you begin with the beginning? How did you meet Miss Amber?”

Chloe had already heard this part four times, but the information still stunned her. The details matched up exactly with the one’s on Rachel’s tape: Chloe had apparently argued her way past a bouncer at a Firewalk concert, and they’d met each other not long after that. It seemed that Rachel had rescued her from a couple of hicks looking for a fight. Fast forward a few weeks, and they were dating.

Who would have imagined she would come to despise the girl who had changed so much for her?

Chloe was brought out of her reverie by a timid knock against the truck’s window. She snapped her head to the side and saw Rachel standing by the passenger door. All she wore was a denim blouse and a pair of black leggings, but she still looked incredible. Chloe realized she was staring and mentally chided herself for it. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and then slid across the seat to open Rachel’s door.

“Hi,” Rachel said, almost a little breathless. She remained outside of the car as if a forcefield existed between her and Chloe. Chloe admired that even though she had agreed to meet with Rachel, Rachel was self-aware enough to know that she was still in hot water.

“I won’t bite… for now,” Chloe muttered, gesturing for the other girl to come in. Rachel offered her an unusually weak smile before slipping in. She quietly closed the door behind her.

“Thanks… for agreeing to see me,” Rachel said, her voice still soft.

“Yeah, well…” Chloe murmured, not sure of what else to say. Rachel was actually playing all of her cards right, but Chloe didn’t want to be impressed. Both girls remained quiet, and only as she heard her other self speak did Chloe realize that she hadn’t paused the cassette.

“It’s just such… _bullshit_ ,” the other Chloe remarked. “It’s like, I give her everything, and she just up and forgets me? What kind of person does that?”

“Oh,” Chloe mumbled. Before she had texted Rachel to meet her, but after she’d heard the tape a first time, she thought she wanted Rachel to hear it. She thought she wanted Rachel to suffer as she had. Now that Rachel was here, though, Chloe felt… embarrassed, allowing Rachel to hear her old thoughts. She quickly reached for the cassette player, but a gentle touch to her hand stopped her.

“It’s all right,” Rachel murmured. “You heard mine. It’s only fair.”

“Yeah, but it’s… well, it’s not very nice,” Chloe weakly argued. Rachel gave her a lopsided smile.

“Well, neither was mine,” she offered, gently placing Chloe’s hand back onto the steering wheel.

“Wouldn’t _you_ be upset if someone did to you what they did to me?” the recorded Chloe asked. While talking with Rachel, she had missed the doctor’s prompting question, but she’d listened to the tape enough times to know what it was: he asked why it upset her so much that Rachel had erased her.

“Certainly,” the doctor answered, “but do you think that maybe in some way, her forgetting you was the best option?” It was silent for a moment as the past Chloe considered. Rachel and Chloe both sat upright in the car, unmoving, barely breathing.

“No fucking way,” Recorded Chloe eventually responded. “When people love each other, they’re not supposed to take the easy way out--they’re supposed to work things out. It sounds fucking… corny, but whatever. It’s true. And Rachel, she… she never bothered to work things out. Even before the big fight, it was always just me apologizing, and I couldn’t even figure out what I’d done wrong. She always made me feel like _I_ was the fuck-up, when really it was her and all of her fucking secrets.” There was a pause. “She never owned up to anything, and she definitely didn’t own up to this.”

“We… _really_ don’t have to listen to this,” Chloe said, still feeling embarrassed. When she reached out to pause the tape this time, Rachel didn’t stop her. Rachel’s head hung low, and her hands were balled into fists in her lap.

“I told you it wasn’t nice,” she muttered, glancing away from the other girl. Fuck. Why did she feel bad for her? Rachel had brought this upon herself. Why should Chloe feel bad for giving her a taste of her own medicine?

“So… you erased me back,” Rachel said finally. Her voice was surprisingly even, but she refused to make eye contact, opting instead to continue staring into her lap. Something about her voice, about the sudden tension in the air, made the hairs on the back of Chloe’s neck stand.

“I… yeah,” Chloe said eventually. “That was why I didn’t remember anything on your tape. I think I got it done a week or two after you did.” Rachel nodded, remained silent for another unbearably long moment.

“You know what?” she said finally, looking up at Chloe. The sudden eye contact flustered Chloe enough that she didn’t respond. “I’m really fucking pissed right now. I know I don’t have the right to be because I erased you first, but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“I know,” Chloe said weakly.

“You don’t know shit about what I was going through.”

“That’s because you never told me anything.”

Both girls stared at each other for a long moment. Eventually, Rachel’s shoulders fell. She sighed.

“You aren’t wrong,” she eventually responded. She dropped her head into her hands. “I _hate_ that you aren’t wrong,” she admitted. “I hate how shitty I was back then. And I’m scared I… I still am. A shitty person.”

Chloe swallowed hard. She was supposed to hate Rachel for erasing her, but now she’d found that she had done the same exact thing. She couldn’t hate her without being a hypocrite, even if Rachel had fired the first shot. Plus, Rachel seemed genuinely upset about what she’d done. But Chloe had trusted Rachel before, and it had ended with her crying for two days straight. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get close to her again. When she first texted her, she figured she at least owed Rachel the knowledge that she’d erased her back, but… she never thought about what would happen afterward, if she wanted to try to be friends again.

“You did try to apologize to me. A lot,” Chloe offered, glancing away from Rachel. Rachel gave a harsh bark of a laugh.

“Only so you wouldn’t see how pathetic I really am.” Chloe raised her eyebrows, but she waited for Rachel to speak. It took a moment, but she finally did. “There’s… a lot more on my tape,” she said quietly. “A lot more that you never heard, that I don’t even think the other Chloe knew.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Things that the other Chloe would’ve hated me for if she’d known.”

“Things that I’ll hate you for?” Chloe asked. Rachel lifted her head slowly, then gave a short nod. “Should we even waste our time, then? If you knew all of these things, knew that I’d hate you… Why did you even come today?” Rachel grimaced.

“I just wanted to see you,” she admitted, flicking her eyes back down to her lap. Chloe’s heart skipped a beat.

“That’s not good enough,” Chloe said, despite the warmth creeping through her body.

“Why did you agree to see me, then?” Rachel asked, a little forceful, a little hopeful. “If you hate me…”

“Because when I first called you out here, I wanted to make you listen to my tape. I wanted you to _hurt,_  Rachel.”

“But now you won’t let me listen to it.” Chloe swallowed hard, thinking of the implications behind that statement.

“I guess I won’t,” she said finally.

“Chloe, I…” Rachel began, her voice wavering. “I don’t want to tell you the truth, because it’ll hurt you. It will really fuck you up. And I feel like… I feel like I’d be taking the easy way out if I just told you everything and expected you to forgive me. I should have to live with the guilt of what I did for the rest of my life, without it affecting you. But I…” She took a shuddering breath, willing herself not to cry. “I don’t want to be that girl in your tape, the one who takes you for granted and hides things from you. I want to earn your trust, but I… after I tell you, I…”

Chloe should’ve hated Rachel, she thought. She should have told her that this meeting was a mistake, that it wasn’t worth the effort. She should have told Rachel to get out of her truck, pretend that the whole thing had never happened. But Chloe couldn’t resist the look in Rachel’s eyes as they filled with tears, couldn’t tear herself away from the softness in her voice. She wanted to know the truth, too, know all of these things that Rachel had kept from her.

“It’s all right,” Chloe eventually said. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll want anything to do with you after this, but… I want to know what happened, and I want to hear it from you.” She sighed, thinking of where to start. “My tape said that you kept getting more and distant until we had this huge fight--”

“At the junkyard. Apparently we used to have a spot here. A half-finished concrete shack,” Rachel finished. Chloe nodded.

“I called you out for keeping secrets, and... you got pissed at me and left. That was the last time I saw you… until now.” Rachel swallowed hard, nodded.

“Do you… do you know exactly what you said that made me walk out?” she asked slowly. Chloe stared at her, thinking the question was a little bizarre.

“No,” she answered at last. “I mostly glimpsed over it on my tape.” Rachel’s jaw clenched as though she were steeling herself for something particularly awful.

“I told you that I wanted to work things out, that I wanted you. And you said something to effect of, ‘Only when there’s no one else to fuck.’”

At that, Chloe immediately glanced away from Rachel. Her tape hadn’t mentioned her saying anything like that, but it didn’t sound off-base. The old Chloe (or rather, the younger one) hadn’t mentioned any suspicion of Rachel cheating on her--only bitterness at their constant bickering and the end result. The accusation must have been something Chloe came up with in the heat of the moment, and for a second, Chloe actually felt kind of bad.

“Oh,” was her only response. She was pretty fucking embarrassed.

“That was when I told you to fuck off, and I left.” Rachel took another deep breath, then looked up at her companion with watery eyes.

“Chloe, you weren’t wrong. You weren’t wrong. I…”

And at first, Chloe didn’t understand. But seeing the look on Rachel’s face, putting together the rest of the sentence Rachel couldn’t bear to finish, she understood.

Chloe was going to fucking explode.

“ _You_ _cheated on me_?” she asked, but it came out as a scream. Rachel simply closed her eyes, and tears began to fall down her cheeks. “ _You fucked someone else_?”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispered, now looking down into her lap. “I didn’t know--not until I heard my tape, I--”

“I can’t believe this.” Chloe laughed, because if she didn’t, she’d cry. “I didn’t actually think you were fucking someone else. I’m pretty sure I just said it to piss you off. And then you… you got all indignant, like… like it was so _wrong_ of me to accuse you of cheating, when… when you actually _were_? When you were _fucking another person behind my back_?”

“Chloe, I’m sorry--”

“And then you went, you went and _erased me_ , like I’d done something so horrible to you, when really, you were fucking someone else.” The rage bubbled through Chloe’s veins like magma. She didn’t know what was about to happen next, but she knew with every fiber of her heated being that it was not good.

“Chloe, I wish that I could change it--” Rachel began, crying earnestly now, but Chloe snorted.

“Don’t you, now? You are… fucking unbelievable, you know that? I don’t know what I ever fucking saw in you, then or now. Jesus Christ.”

“Chloe, I’m so fucking sorry,” Rachel sobbed. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I really don’t… That… that girl on the tape, it was me, but it wasn’t _me._  I don’t… I would never--”

“Yeah, but you did, didn’t you?” Chloe spat. “Even if you’re not the same Rachel as before. She fucked me over once, and I’m sure as hell that you’ll do it, too.”

“Chloe, I swear, I couldn’t--”

“Who was it, anyway? Whose pussy game was so good you couldn’t resist?” She was being crude now, but she didn’t care. Rachel’s lips clamped shut, and Chloe realized that this must have been the worst part. Still, she wanted to know. _Needed_ to know.

“ _Well?_ ” Chloe asked again, hysterical, patience nonexistent. Rachel hid her face in her hands again, hiccuped. Finally, she pulled her hands away. Her voice shook as she spoke.

“Do you know Frank Bowers?” she asked.

Chloe thought she was livid before.  
  
That feeling was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ compared to what she felt now.


	16. Eternal sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel comes clean. Chloe makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, friends. The end is neigh. 
> 
> It has been an absolute blast to write this story. It's been almost six months since I started this, and it's the biggest writing project I've taken on since like... eighth grade. Ahaha. Amberprice have me so many feelings and got me back into writing, so I'm really appreciative of it. 
> 
> I'm also appreciative of YOU! Yes, you, the person reading this and reading my story. Your comments have all been so lovely and supportive. Thanks for taking this ride alone with me! 
> 
> I'd like to give a special shout-out to Sohryuden, Several+Ducks, Parawolf, and my other usual commenters! Thanks for making my day several days :] If you need someone to beta your work or a reader or whatever, you've got one in me!
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, please share it with your friends! 
> 
> And now... Eternal Sunshine of Arcadia Bay comes to a close.

Chloe remembered her mom using the phrase “seeing red” when she was younger; Chloe guessed it was her mom’s polite alternative to simply saying she was pissed. Her dad used to tease her mom about it; “I better start on that paint job before your mother start seeing red.” Chloe had thought of it as a funny phrase, nothing to be taken seriously.

Now, not only did she understand the term; she had surpassed it. Fuck red--her rage seared everything in a blinding white.

She climbed out of her truck and paced alongside it, hands balled into fists tightly at her sides. She was a bull ready to charge, about to obliterate every unfortunate thing that crossed her path. She needed to hit something, and she needed to hit it _immediately_.

Her eyes fell on an old piece of pipe by the wayside, a couple feet long and rusted. Without another thought, Chloe snatched it from the ground. She turned viciously on her heel, looking for her first victim.

An old computer monitor, largely intact, sat alone a couple yards away. Chloe’s grip on the pipe tightened as she made her way forward. Her rage flared up inside her and reached an apex as she brought the pipe onto the computer screen. With a sickening crunch, the screen shattered, and a piece of plastic flew from the back.

Chloe screamed.

Nothing was safe from her fury: an old oil barrel, now springing a leak in its side; a wooden crate, now lying mostly in splinters; an old lawn chair, pierced through its faded green fabric. Anything, everything was fair game, and Chloe would destroy it.

Nearby sat a car that looked to be as ancient as Chloe’s truck; it lacked a bumper, two of the wheels were on cinderblocks, and its paint peeled. She screamed and she smashed, heaving the metal pipe onto the already dented hood of the car again and again. She crushed the windshield, sending shards of glass flying.

She held the pipe up high in both of her hands, ready to rain more punishment upon the beaten down car. Then she felt a pair of arms around her waist, a body press into her from behind. Not expecting the touch, Chloe stumbled backward, sending her and the other person tumbling into the dust. The lead pipe hit the ground and went rolling away, out of Chloe’s reach.

Chloe quickly scrambled to her feet and whipped around. She was met with shimmering blonde hair and wet, hazel eyes. All at once, her confusion gave way to searing hot rage.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” screamed the enraged teen.

“You were going to hurt yourself!” the other girl cried back. Tears still streamed down her mascara-stained face, but there was a quiet resolve in her golden eyes.

“I don’t CARE,” Chloe shouted.

“Well, you fucking should!” Rachel pushed herself up from the ground. She strode over to the other girl, her head high in an attempt to match Chloe’s intensity with her own. “I’m not going to watch you end up breaking your arm or some shit, okay?” Chloe wasn’t impressed.

“ _Fuck_ you. What do you fucking care?” she spat.

“I care about _you_!” Rachel yelled, stepping closer to her. Chloe barked a miserable imitation of a laugh.

“You don’t even fucking _know_ me!” she cried. Exasperated, she flung her hands into the air. “You don’t know _shit_ about me, and yet somehow you still managed to fuck me over!” Chloe laughed again, full of vitriol. “Congratu-fucking-lations to you. It’s a really quite the achievement. Not only did you manage to piss me off _this much_ ; you also made me lose the last scrap of respect I had for you.” Rachel’s gaze faltered, but she stood her ground as Chloe continued to berate her.

“I mean, not only did you fuck someone else behind my back--it was Frank Bowers. Frank _fucking_ Bowers! That old-ass, low-life pig who lives in his piss-stained trailer.” Chloe laughed again, the hysteria rising. “I mean, wow. I thought you hated me, but you must really fucking hate yourself if you slept with him. I’d almost feel bad for you, if you hadn’t been fucking him at the same time you were fucking me.”

“Chloe--” Rachel began.

“No, you don’t get to say anything,” growled the blue-haired girl. “I gave you everything. _Everything_ , Rachel! When you said I was wrong, I said I was sorry. When you blew me off, I let it slide. I fucking chauffeured you around town, tolerated all your piece of shit Vortex groupies who looked down on me. I stuck with you when you got into fights with your family, snuck into your house and held you when you couldn’t fucking sleep at night. There wasn’t _anything_ I wouldn’t have done for you, Rachel, but you threw it the fuck away. You fucked Frank.”

Saying it aloud made it real again. Suddenly, Chloe wasn’t angry. She was just… sad. The fire that had fueled her vanished, and she sank onto her knees. Tears dripped from her eyes, leaving splotchy patterns in the dirt.

“You fucked Frank,” she whispered. Broken. She didn’t even attempt to stop the tears, the shake in her bones as she began to cry. She fell back onto her butt and sobbed into her knees, her arms covering her face.

Chloe heard a quiet patter of feet beside her. She felt the other teenager enter her space, though she remained silent; the only sound between them was of Chloe whimpering and sniffling.  

Chloe wasn’t sure why Rachel was still there. After the cussing out and the crude comments, she figured Rachel would take off. Yet there she was, sitting beside her. Chloe didn’t know if she liked her presence or if she wanted to tell her to fuck off.

"I'm sorry." Rachel’s voice was a broken whisper on the wind. "I know it's not what you want to hear. I know that it won't change anything... But I am so truly sorry to have hurt you like this." Chloe refused to acknowledge her apology, keeping her head buried in her arms.

"I know I don't know you very well, but it... I hate seeing you this way. I hate seeing you so upset, I hate seeing you cry..." Rachel paused, her throat just a little too tight, and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"I hate knowing that I made you feel like this," she finally whispered. There was silence between them yet again, and it made Rachel nervous. In some ways, she preferred Chloe screaming at her; at least she’d been getting a reaction then. At least she knew Chloe had cared. Still, she had to keep going.

"I... I can't remember doing it, so all I can tell you is what I heard from my tape," she murmured. "I just know... I didn't mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you, Chloe. That was part of why I didn't tell you." She swallowed hard. "Though it’s true that I was a coward, too. I didn't want you to hate me, even though you had every right to… I wouldn’t blame you if you still hated me now, honestly. Really, I get it. I just..." She exhaled, willed herself to keep it together. "I feel like I owe you the truth, after keeping it from you for so long. Would you let me...?"

"You're full of shit," Chloe finally said. She rubbed at her eyes. "You're only telling me this to make yourself feel better." Rachel hesitated.

"That may be true," she agreed, "but it doesn't negate the other part. You still deserve the truth, Chloe." Chloe stared out at the junk around them. After a long moment, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket along with her lighter. As unstable as she felt, her hands were perfectly steady as she lit a cigarette. Without turning to look at her, she held it out for Rachel to take. Rachel’s eyes widened, and though she understood the gesture, she stopped herself from taking the cigarette.

"I need a fucking smoke, and I'm just listening. So… I can only imagine how much you need one." Warmth and gratitude surged through Rachel’s body.

"Thank you," she whispered, taking the cigarette from her companion. Chloe simply gave a sharp nod before lighting a cigarette of her own. She took a drag much longer than she should have; she coughed, and her eyes watered.

"Fuck," she muttered, before realizing that Rachel was coughing, too.

"I did the same damn thing," Rachel said, forcing a laugh. Chloe just shook her head, stared ahead at nothing in particular. Rachel cleared her throat just to give herself something to do. She looked down at her trembling hands, thought that it was now or never. She took a deep breath to steel herself, and then she began to speak.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. Not really.” She paused. That wasn’t what she wanted to say. She was trying to absolve herself before the story had even begun. She shook her head, started over.

“Frank and I… we were just friends. We’d smoke a little bit, chill. I’d hang out with his dog. Usually he’d give me--or I guess, the other Rachel--some to take home. Then I’d go over to your place, or we’d meet up in the junkyard. We’d laugh at how he always pretended to be so tough while we smoked the stuff he gave me.” Rachel sighed. Chloe continued to stare ahead, pulling a drag from her smoke every so often.

“At the time, I knew that he had a thing for me,” Rachel admitted. She kicked at the dirt with the toe of her boot. “I didn’t think it was serious, though. I just... assumed he was cool with things the way they were, us hanging out and smoking…” Rachel took an inordinate amount of time brushing the dirt from her shoe. When it became clear that she could stall no longer, she continued.

“This one night, he picked me up from the Two Whales.” She swallowed hard, looked up at the cloudless sky. “At first, everything was normal. We smoked a bowl, I played with his dog. He put on some music, and… Other Rachel, she said that it seemed weird because it wasn’t what he usually listened to. It was, like, some Frank Sinatra type shit. And then he asked me to dance. And I guess I thought he was just being silly and high, so I was like, ‘Sure, why not?’ Even though I knew how he felt.” Her words came more quickly now, blending together as her confession came to a crescendo.

“We were just dancing, you know? It wasn’t anything, like, that weird. Not until I tried to go back to just, like, hanging out, and he wouldn’t let me go. And then...” The tears started to fall again, but Rachel quickly rubbed them away. She had to be strong. “He, like, kissed me, and I was so shocked. I thought it was just a joke. But then he did it again, and then shit was just happening. And I knew I should’ve said no or pushed him away or… _anything_. But I didn’t.” The blonde exhaled, kept pushing herself to get through this. Chloe continued staring ahead, though Rachel could see her flinch; she had almost dropped her cigarette.

“I don’t know,” Rachel muttered. “It just… it wasn’t even something I was thinking about, you know? I really didn’t think he’d make a move on me. And then when he did... I don’t know. I didn't know how to say no. And I don’t think I hated it, so I just… went with it. But then I… I didn’t understand what I’d done until it was too late. What I’d done to you. What I’d done to Frank, even.” She sighed.

“It only happened that one time, I’m pretty sure. But it didn’t _stop_ after that. Like, I already felt like the worst person on Earth for hooking up with him, for betraying you. But he… he wouldn’t stop. We hooked up once, _just_ that one time, and he, like, took it as something totally different. He wanted to spend more time with me, but I just wanted to get away from him. But he kept… he just kept fucking going, and eventually I’d give in, and like… He’d keep doing the same shit, trying to kiss me or touch me. It made me feel sick to my stomach. I’d tell him I didn’t want to, and he’d stop... But I knew it would never _really_ stop, that he’d just start up again the next time I had to see him.

“I don’t know, I just… I cared about him as a friend, but I didn’t know how to tell him that. That it was _only_ that, that I only wanted you.” Rachel shook her head again. “Maybe it was my fault for never telling him no. Maybe I brought it upon myself because I couldn’t just tell the fucking truth.

“It was all just so fucked up… trying to avoid him, but knowing he was always out there. And knowing that I’d… cheated on you. It drove me fucking crazy. It felt like there was no way out. And you, because you’re Chloe fucking Price, you were so sweet…” She sniffled in spite of herself. “You could tell that something was wrong, and you kept trying to help. But because I’m Rachel fucking Amber, I just kept pushing you away… On my tape, I said you were suffocating me, but really, I was suffocating myself.” And this time, she couldn’t stop herself from crying.

“I just felt so _guilty_ all the time. I didn’t know how to talk to you without you hating me, so I just… didn’t. I got fucked up all the time instead. Constantly went to Vortex parties, took whatever I could get my hands on, just to forget… Blamed things on you that weren’t your fault, because I’m an utterly shit person, and I didn’t want to take responsibility myself…” She rubbed at her eyes, attempted to swallow past the lump in her throat.

“That was why I erased you,” she murmured. “When you accused me of being with someone else, I… That Rachel, she thought you already knew. But instead of being honest with you, I just... decided to forget everything before it got too hard. Make it seem like it never happened, instead of owning up. Just like you said.” She tried to laugh, but it came out as a mangled cry.

“Chloe, I really am every bit as terrible as you thought…”

Rachel couldn’t continue any further. She hid her face in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks yet again. She’d already lost count of how many times she had cried in the last three days, but she deserved it. She was such a miserable person; all she did was cause others pain. She was the very definition of a fuck-up.

“You’re bleeding,” said Chloe. Stunned, Rachel slowly lifted her head from her hands. Chloe was finally, finally looking in her direction, though she made a point of avoiding her eyes. She followed Chloe’s gaze to her right arm. A dark red spot had bled through the denim of her shirt, right at the elbow.

“Oh,” Rachel murmured, turning her arm to get a better look. “I didn’t even realize… maybe it was from when we fell earlier.” Chloe flinched again, and then she stamped out her cigarette.

“You were bitching about me hurting myself earlier, but the second you get hurt, you don’t even notice.”

“Yeah, I guess... It’s not that big a deal, though. I’ll clean it up when I--”

Suddenly, Rachel Amber found a pair of arms around her and Chloe’s head resting on her shoulder. She was surprised, but Chloe was warm and her weight reassuring. She relaxed into the unexpected embrace, though she didn’t dare to hug her back.

“Why do I care if you’re hurt?” Chloe asked desperately. “Why do I care about you at all? Even after what you just told me, _why can’t I hate you_?” For a moment, there was only the sound of both teenagers sniffling.

“You should hate me,” Rachel said eventually, her voice thick. “You can hate me, if you want. It would be totally justified.”

“And trust me, I want to… but… but the Rachel who did those things, she wasn’t you.” Chloe lifted her head, and for the first time since Rachel’s confession, she looked her in the eyes. “The Rachel who I want to hate isn’t here, and even if she were, I really doubt I could after hearing all that… Rachel, you were hurting, too.”

“I guess, but... I definitely could have handled it better.” The fact that Chloe had reached out to her, that she was speaking now and actually looking at her instilled in her the slightest bit of hope. “I think I told you that I was handling things, that you didn’t have to worry. But I mean, if someone had told me that, it would have only made me worry more.”

“My tape said that, too,” Chloe revealed. “You… Other you told me that everything was under control and that I just had to trust her. But after all the mood swings, after all the times you showed up wasted, I couldn’t leave it alone.”

“That’s because you’re actually a good person, Chloe Price. A phenomenal person. You should have told me to fuck off by now, but… here you are, getting weepy over a scratch.”

“Hey,” Chloe said, pretending to be cross. Rachel smiled, but after a moment, it faltered.

“There is… one more thing I should tell you. It doesn’t really affect me much now, but…” Chloe pulled away from her, and Rachel immediately felt regret. She couldn’t bear to hurt this girl again, but she also deserved to know everything.

“Frank… still calls me sometimes,” she admitted. “After I erased you, I didn’t remember anything about you, so… I guess I didn’t remember the entire thing with Frank, either, since you were wrapped up in a lot of it.” Rachel hesitated, then pushed herself to continue. “We… ended up together. For a bit.” Chloe’s jaw clenched tight. She inadvertently reached for another cigarette and lit it without thinking.

“I broke up with him, though,” Rachel said quickly. “About a month ago. He’s, uhm… not really over it.” She paused. “He was the one calling me the other day when we were playing Never Have I Ever.”

“Of course,” Chloe grumbled. Rachel swallowed hard. She’d made so much progress with Chloe, and she didn’t want it all wiped away by something almost incidental.

“I’ve… been meaning to talk to him, to tell him that I’m really not interested in getting back together. It’s just hard, you know, when someone else’s feelings are involved. I just don’t want to fuck up like I did last time.”

“Band Aid method: rip the fucker off and get it over with. Just hit him with a ‘I don’t want to fucking see you anymore’ and call it a day.” Rachel gave Chloe a half smile.

“That seems like a very Chloe suggestion.”

“What gave it away?” Rachel chuckled, shook her head.

“Like I said, I want to do things right this time. Honestly, I owe him more of an explanation, but I don’t know how to tell him I got my memories erased without sounding high.”

“Seriously. I thought I was hallucinating when I first heard your tape.”

“I know, right? I thought I was high out of my mind. But… truth is stranger than fiction, so they say.” Chloe exhaled smoke from her nose.

“No fucking kidding.” They sat in the most amiable silence they’d enjoyed since Rachel had uncovered the truth. The cigarette put Chloe at ease, and she relished the last of the summer sun soaking into her skin. It was almost peaceful. Almost.

“I don’t think the procedure worked,” said Rachel. Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“Now I _know_ you’re high.” Her companion laughed. It still wasn’t back to its full exuberance, but it was breathtaking nonetheless.

“I mean, obviously it worked in that we forgot about each other. But I…” Rachel glanced down, saw Chloe’s hand in the dirt beside her. Cautiously, she placed her hand gently over Chloe’s. “Even if I didn’t remember you, I don’t think it… changed how I felt about you.” She glanced up at Chloe, found herself getting lost in the blue. “How I feel about you.”

Chloe looked down, saw Rachel’s hand on top of hers. Looked back up and saw the hope housed in her hazel eyes.

“Oh,” she mumbled, quickly glancing away. Rachel immediately withdrew her hand.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t put you in a position like this.”

“I just, uhh.” For once, Chloe found herself struggling for something to say.

“You don’t have to explain,” Rachel interjected. “Really. It’s fine.” And god, Chloe wanted to say something, needed to say something, but… she wasn’t sure what. After Rachel’s staggering series of confessions, what the fuck _could_ she say? She shook her head, snubbed out the second cigarette.

“I, uhh. Appreciate you telling me all of that,” she said, off to a weak start. “It’s just that… I don’t know. I know you’re trying to change, but… What happens if you give up? What if you decide it’s easier to be who you’ve always been?” Rachel frowned.

“I can’t, Chloe. I can’t go back to the way I was. I was… selfish, manipulative. I don’t want to be that way anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone else I care about.”

“But it’s inevitable that you will… No matter how good your intentions are, you’re always going to hurt someone eventually. And I just can’t be that someone again, Rachel. I really can’t.”

“Chloe,” Rachel whispered, and Chloe felt her heart squeeze up at the dejection on her face.

“It’s just… After hearing everything about Frank, the lying, pushing me away…” Chloe glanced away, studied the dirt beneath her shoes. “I don’t think I can ever trust you again, Rachel.”

Rachel knew that it was wrong of her to be hopeful. Rachel knew she should have kept her expectations low. Still, in spite of everything, she wanted things between her and Chloe to work out for the best.

Now she understood how wrong she’d been to hope.

“I understand,” she said quietly. She got to her feet and patted the dust from her leggings. She could feel the sting of her elbow in full force now, but it wasn’t anything compared to the ache in her chest, the leaden feeling in her limbs. The pain from her scratch was actually a welcome distraction.

“Well, I’m… sorry for wasting so much of your time,” Rachel said softly, feeling the sting of oncoming tears. Chloe frowned up at her.

“It wasn’t a waste.” She paused. “Thanks for telling me the truth,” she added. Rachel nodded.

“It was the least I could do,” she murmured. She grabbed her elbow, again just to give herself something to do. “I should, uhm… go,” she whispered, and then without another word, she was running away. Chloe quickly rose to her feet to see where she was going so suddenly. Rachel had stopped at the truck, was reaching for something on the passenger’s side: her purse. She slung the bag over her shoulder. She looked up at Chloe. They stared at each other for a long moment, hazel eyes meeting blue, before Rachel finally turned away.

Chloe watched as she walked away, her figure slowly receding into the distance.

She bit her lip. She clenched and unclenched her fists.

She took one step forward, then another back.

She bit her lip again. She cursed at herself. She started running.

“Rachel!” she cried. She really needed to smoke less; her lung were burning after just a few seconds, but she continued to shout. “Rachel!” she yelled again. The girl in the denim blouse stopped, slowly turned around. Her eyes were wide as she took in the blue-haired girl before her. Chloe slumped over, her hands on her thighs as she tried to catch her breath.

“Chloe?” Rachel asked slowly, puzzled. The other girl nodded, stood tall. When she spoke next, she looked directly at Rachel, her speech pointed.

“Are you really trying to be a better person?” Rachel’s eyebrows raised in surprise. She slowly nodded.

“Yeah. I am.”

“And you’re sorry about everything that happened before?” Rachel nodded again, much more quickly this time.

“So sorry. I wish I’d never done any of it… but if I hadn’t, I guess I wouldn’t be who I am now. Or who I’m trying to be, at least.” Chloe stared, her eyes narrowed.

“What are you going to do next?” she asked. Again, Rachel looked surprised.

“Well, I… I don’t know. I guess the next person I talk to is Frank. Apologize and tell him that I really can’t be what he wants me to be. Never again.”

“Did you really love me?” The question was sudden, but far less critical. Chloe’s voice was gentle, and she sounded almost scared. Rachel’s expression softened.

“I did,” Rachel answered quietly. “I didn’t love you right, but I did love you. But maybe love just wasn’t enough.” She sighed deeply. “This is probably for the best. I didn’t deserve you. And this way… you can have a clean break. You can find someone else who’s better for you.” Chloe swallowed hard. They looked at each other again before Rachel eventually broke the eye contact.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just hard to be around you and not… want you, you know? So I think… I think I should go.” Chloe’s throat still felt so dry.

“Okay,” she managed.

“Okay,” Rachel responded. “Maybe… see you around.” And maybe they would see each other around, but even if they did, it would never be the same. Maybe Rachel would be with someone else. She and Rachel would be strangers once again.

Chloe hated something about that thought.

Chloe stepped forward and pressed her lips to Rachel’s.

She pulled away after just one brief moment, surprised at herself. Rachel was surprised, too, her eyes wide and her mouth half open. She looked so ridiculous that Chloe couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t the time or the place, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. When was the last time she’d laughed, let alone so hard?  Soon, Rachel was joining her, both of them laughing, not even entirely sure why. It just felt good. Everything about where they were at that instant felt… good.

Once the fit of giggles had finally ended, both girls regarded each other again. Only for a second or two before Rachel was leaning up, placing her hand on Chloe’s cheek, and then kissing her, really kissing her. Chloe kissed her back, and she lost herself in it. Something she’d felt once before but couldn’t remember feeling. A certain kind of nostalgia. They only pulled apart when they could no longer breathe.

“I want to be with you,” Rachel whispered. “Please.” Chloe leaned her forehead against Rachel’s, felt warmth flutter through her like the summer sun.

“Okay,” Chloe whispered back. Rachel pulled away, looked up at Chloe with eyes shimmering with tears.

“Really?” she asked. “Even though I…”

“Well... We both know what _not_ to do this time, right? I mean, we might fight sometimes...” Rachel nodded quickly, wiped the tears from her eyes.

“But we know how to handle it,” she replied. Chloe released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She felt tears coming to her eyes, but for the first time in her life, they weren’t sad.

“Then… okay,” Chloe said.

“Yeah?” Rachel asked. Chloe nodded, smiled, and Rachel smiled back.

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

A rusted pick-up truck chugged its way along the Pacific coast, meandering the winding mountain roads. At its wheel sat a girl with messy blue hair; snuggled into her side, a blonde, her pretty features drawn in content. A gentle breeze flitted through the open windows. The evening sunlight bathed everything in gold. It was a surprisingly peaceful moment in the ever-hectic lives of the nineteen-year-old girls.  
  
It almost didn’t happen.  
  
The blonde almost lost have the beautiful, brilliant young woman sitting next to her, the love of her life. She almost stayed in her stifling small town with her pretend-perfect family steeped in deceit. She almost lived her entire life without meeting her birth mother.  
  
The last part she was working on. Sera Gearhardt, a woman surrounded in mystery. A woman she hoped to meet.  
  
Rachel had gotten a lead on where she might be. She was uncharacteristically nervous when she told the other girl, not sure how she’d react. She’d laced her hands together to keep them from shaking, used her prowess acting to stop her voice from quivering.  
  
At the time, Chloe, like the perfect human she was, had simply asked, “When do we leave?”

And here they were now.

  
Without thinking, Rachel placed her hand on top of her girlfriend’s. It was dry, a little callused but warm and reassuring and real.  
  
She wasn’t sure what was coming next, but it was okay. The future looked as good as the girl beside her.  
  
Chloe turned to Rachel, smiled. Rachel’s heart fluttered in her chest. She smiled back, looked ahead at the road before them.  
  
Yeah.  
  
Things would be okay.

* * *

 


End file.
